#who were weird little girls? chill. its the weird little kids grown up to be weird little adults website and youre shocked? really?

[vancilocs]

lore dump tres

ylva doesn’t have a porcelain bodyguard that’s been raised to serve as her right hand since birth bc fenrir didn’t want to

he’s very grateful to have duško around himself, don’t get him wrong, dude’s exceptionally talented and dedicated but to the point where it becomes creepy, and it’s only because he got reassigned to fenrir that they don’t have the type of symbiotic relationship the ruler and their bodyguard usually has

fenrir watched duško literally not eat, sleep nor move from gandr’s bedside for days leading up to his death and almost withered away himself, genuinely worried if he should die now too because of his failure/him now being useless with nothing to protect and fenrir thought thats weird n creepy i don’t want to take part in a culture that raises children to think of themselves that way. (fenrir and duško do have that in common, feeling expendable and unwanted and like failures, and unfortunately also the self-destructive ideation) sure ylva has a bodyguard who’s very talented but they’re also her friend and have their own life and all. better that way

it was a controversial decision to not get her a porcelain bodyguard, their most prestigious families were practically getting pregnant and preparing babies to be shipped off to her as soon as merope’s pregnancy was announced, just for fenrir to be like um no thanks. however thanks to the fairly recent scandal of vasili (neighbour kingdom’s crown prince’s own bodyguard) getting married to his liege it caused a bit less hubbub than it normally would have.

fenrir and duško are fairly close mainly bc they’re both introverts and don’t bother each other, but there’s the unusual dynamic of duško at times holding power over fenrir: duško is older and has known fenrir since he was a small baby, and there is that remnant of fenrir thinking of duško as “big brother’s cool friend” that knew cool tricks. especially in the beginning fenrir did often lean on duško for comfort and still relies on him to get him out of anxiety-inducing situations, and also holds his opinion in very high regard

this is also bc duško and gandr were so grown together and duško could basically read gandr’s thoughts from a flick of a finger, there is a LOT of gandr in him that fenrir still sees. so the love for gandr that fenrir had and still has kinda has moved over to duško - my brother trusted you, i trust you. but on the flipside duško has a lot of mannerisms and speech patterns he picked up from gandr because they didn’t spend a single day apart for like 20 years that make fenrir sad and in the beginning gave him a lot of anxiety because he was still grieving gandr and it hurt to hear duško talk like he did. like my brother is gone but his ghost still lingers in his shadow or something something. its a comfort and an anxiety at the same time

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fenrir and siðar get along surprisingly well despite their initial meeting which started with siðar (in his 40′s) barely issuing a challenge and fenrir (about 21) wiping the floor with his face and breaking his nose, though they dont meet very often with siðar being away on the seas for the majority of the time. he does try to visit a few times a year and usually him and fenrir go fishing or something to catch up

they get along mainly bc theyre very similar in personality, dry, sarcastic, easily annoyed, straightforward and foul-mouthed little shits - siðar feels really bad for fenrir after learning of his story, wow our dad was a shithead, huh. well, considering siðar never even met him it makes sense.  does feel really bad for fenrir when he realized the pressure he’s under and the mold he was forced into after first being rejected so harshly. also they’re both horse girls and siðar has his kelpie he shows up on and fenrir thinks its the coolest

he doesnt have kids of his own, a partner or two maybe i dont know yet, he just chills and sails, makes fenrir feel a bit better bc siðar is 20 years his senior but isnt like a super mega rich successful guy so it helps fenrir calm down like maybe i’m not lagging behind actually. maybe its okay to not achieve absolutely everything or have everything figured out before youre 25.

bc he visits kinda rarely and doesnt stay for too long hes mainly buds with fenrir but merope likes him too (but we know she has a thing for rabble rousers), of the kids ylva enjoys his travel stories and alex has thought he’s the coolest thing since sliced bread since he was a little toddler. siðar has brought him shark teeth and egg casings and fish scales and all sorts of things and alex is still so hype when uncle shows up. nepheli thinks he’s quite scary and siðar is okay with not handling such a tinysmall toddler for now.

him and helle also get along, used to spar when younger and now that helle cant do that anymore they usually just sit and chat, siðar has gotten a bunch of information about his dad and stepmom and also gandr from helle when fenrir got too anxious and sad to talk about them. has offered his baby siblings to go kick their moms ass (was also pretty disgusted to do the math that his stepmom is the same age as himself, what the fug) but they said nah don’t bother. helle is also a fan of his horse she thinks its awesome

duško doesn’t like him much but is cordial as he is with everything. siðar does like his dogs but isnt allowed to pet because they’re “at work” as if the fox does anything remotely useful

so if fenrir is now in his 50s, siðar is in his 70′s so hes an old man, but very spry for his age. looks great too. the salty sea air has been kind to him

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merope almost got whiplash when on her honeymoon bc as soon as fenrir got out of court and from under so many eyes and they didnt communicate by writing (which he famously sucks ass at and had all his letters proofread so he didnt dare to be himself in them) the man was... relaxed? attentive?? funny, even??? downright cute????

anyway she fell in love hard with him there and ditched her plans of maybe annulling the marriage and running back home and the rest is history. sometimes sad history but hey

[nanatsumu]

HIGH SCHOOL!SUKUNA x F!READER

thinking about bad boy itadori sukuna who all the kids at school try to steer clear from because they know he’s bad news and if you get involved with him then you’re bound to be tied with bad luck for as long as he lives. well, that is everyone except for the president of the student council who so happens to be his childhood best friend turned lover.

this is mostly written for my own self indulgence and to project my fantasies of having a boyfriend onto sukuna but feel free to treat this as any other headcanon! ps i am pretty sure canon sukuna would kill a baby at any given situation, but this is going to be a revamped version of sukuna written by yours truly ;) and its a high school au so sukuna won’t be a complete menace to society and will actually have a heart heh

also i didn’t realize how long this was going to be??? this is kind of all over place too because i just wanted to throw all of my thoughts onto this post so there might be some plot holes in this LOL

i feel like sukuna would be the type of bad boy who isn’t necessarily a bad boy but everyone at school just paints him as some kind of delinquent because of all the tattoos and piercings he has.

he actually shows up to school more often than you think he would (but that’s only because you’re in most of his classes so long story short: you’re his only motivation for attending class)

“forgets” to bring his work books to class more than usual (in reality he does this on purpose so he has an excuse to be near you) so he requests to sit next to you the entire class period so he can share with you for the meantime but whenever the teachers not looking he’ll go back to admiring your face.

his older twin brother, itadori yuji, is very fond of you since you three grew up together and you both had your chances of being a victim to his antics!

exhibit a: in middle school when you and yuji were watching tv together, the show you two were watching would keep switching to some wrestling match broadcasting on a sports channel and no matter how many times you turned the tv on and off, it just would not stop. but it wasn’t until you heard snickering from the kitchen that you realized sukuna had a spare remote and was the mastermind behind the whole thing.

exhibit b: sukuna and yuji’s mom was the owner of a bakery so every now and then she would have either one of the twins come deliver freshly baked pastries to your household! oh how wrong was she to trust her youngest. sukuna was now a freshman in high school, and by now you would’ve thought that sukuna would have grown out of his childish phase, but WRONG! sukuna was still a menace in your life even past childhood. so when you bit into one of the macaroons, instead of being hit with the overwhelming taste of [favorite flavor], all you could feel was the burning sensation of wasabi kicking into your tastebuds.

yeah after the whole wasabi macaroon freak accident, you stopped accepting everything sukuna offered to you and opted to only eating pastries out of the boxes that yuji delivered to you. (sukuna eventually caught onto this and was just TEENSY bit upset but he would rather down a whole tube of wasabi than to tell you upfront)

now, how did you two even end up dating??? oh boy now that is a story

you see, yours and sukuna’s dynamic growing up was similar to that of tom and jerry’s— you being jerry and sukuna being 10x worse than tom of course

but it wasn’t until a confession after school behind the cherry blossom tree that was known for bringing good luck to successful confessions that sukuna finally realized that maybe he really did like you just a little lot bit

sukuna overheard the boy who was planning on confessing to you talking to his friend group about how “sweet and caring” you are (although sukuna could argue otherwise, you were a little brat. *LIKE HELLO?!&:&:& YOU WEREN’T THE ONE WHO ATE A MACAROON FILLED WASABI**) and obviously his ears perked up at the mention of your name. he grew up with you after all so naturally he would be interested in a conversation that revolved around you.

but then the boys started going on about how “you looked like an easy catch” and how “your body was bangin’!” yeah no, that’s where he drew the line. sure sukuna was an ass and talked shit about you most of the time (in his defense it wasn’t like he was doing it behind your back) but if he ever caught someone else talking about you like that then he would be sure to give them a hard time.

he hid behind one of the bushes near the cherry blossom tree while the boy was professing his love for you. funnily enough, for a moment sukuna forgot why he was originally there because he was too busy trying to stifle a laugh as he watched the boy stumble over his words.

“okay shows over” sukuna thought as the confession was reaching its conclusion, but just as he was about to step in and give the poor boy a piece of his mind, he stopped in his tracks when he heard you roaring with laughter.

“did you really think that i wouldn’t hear about what you and your friends said about me earlier? you’re really pathetic if you think any girl would be easy enough to fall to her knees for you because news flash! you’re a disgusting pig and you deserve to rot in hell for speaking about a girl’s worth like that.”

“it’s kind of sad too, i thought you were a nice boy and i probably would have given you a chance but it seems like you’re even worse than scum! damn it, to think there was somebody out there who’s even worse than sukuna.”

of course sukuna was not pleased to hear that last bit, but he did have a proud grin forming on his face as he watched the boy run away, flustered from your rejection and the embarrassment he was put through.

“sukuna i know you’re hiding behind the bush.”

“huh? i came here way before you got here, there’s no way you could have seen me.” he said as he stood up to his full height.

“well, your laughter isn’t exactly the quietest, plus i can spot that hair of yours from a mile away.”

lets just say, sukuna was glad you didn’t ask him what he was doing there because he wasn’t sure if he could spare the embarrassment of telling you that he was planning on ruining the confession.

after that whole fiasco happened, sukuna started to feel(!&:&::&) things

like he started to notice how you styled your hair differently one day and how you switched to a new perfume that smelled like spearmint (was that weird? for sukuna probably not. he just excuses it as being highly observant)

you weren’t dumb either, you had a feeling sukuna was there that day of the confession because he too had overheard the conversation between the boy and his friends as well (you knew he was prideful and if you brought it up then he probably would’ve denied it)

so from there on out it was just mutual pining at the point except... well.... not really??

i feel like it was just an unspoken agreement between you two that you guys were “together” but not “together together” because he started to treat you differently than he would before. like for example, he’d carry your bag for you whenever you guys would walk home (yuji was confused by this at first because if anything, it would have made more sense to see sukuna make you carry HIS bag, but he eventually caught on to sukuna’s feelings for you because they were twin brothers after all), he started walking you to class more often even though his class was all the way on the other side of the school (you asked him why but he just shrugged and said he was just “killing time” so that he wouldn’t have to go to class and then you ended up scolding him), and there was also that one time you miraculously found a $20 bill in your backpack after mentioning to sukuna that there was this cute top you saw at the mall the other day but didn’t have enough money at the time to purchase it (you asked him about this but he said it was probably yuji, but you didn’t want to pry any further since you wanted to cherish the fact that sukuna cared that much)

but eventually you got sick of this whole push and pull game that you physically had to tug the collar of his school uniform and pull him in for a kiss (he was visibly shocked at this because he never would’ve imagined you as the assertive type. not that he was complaining though)

“oya? didn’t think you liked me this much kitten.” he said laughing while you rolled your eyes.

“as if, i got tired of you being a wuss so one of us had to wear the pants in the relationship.” you snorted, causing him to irk.

to be honest, your relationship with him is smooth sailing because you both were pretty chill people and you didn’t have to worry about him sneaking behind your back to see other girls because 1. literally all the girls at school are terrified of him and 2. he knew what you were capable of doing to him if you were to ever catch him cheating on you so he wants to stay on your good side

jealous and possessive don’t exist in his dictionary because he is the epitome of those two words. remember what i said about how your relationship is smooth sailing? i kinda lied.

he’s easily jealous like for example: when you were in english class and the teacher had you guys jot down some notes, you realized you forgot to ask for your pencil back when you lent it to your friend last period.

so you asked sukuna to borrow a pencil but instead of giving you a pencil, he called you an idiot for being so forgetful.

this makes you mad so you turn to your male classmate since he was sitting on your opposite side and ask him for a pencil instead.

sukuna was practically fuming the entire class period and once the day ended and you two were back at your place, he made sure to mark you real good. (oh he also went out to buy a pack of mechanical pencils to sneak into your backpack so that next time you forget your pencils, you’ll have 10 extra pencils sitting in your backpack as backup)

he’s not a big fan of pda in public, but on the chances he will show some of it, the most he will do is wrap an arm around your shoulder or waist whenever some dude is trying to hit on you.

BUT IN PRIVATE? better buckle up because your in for a ride wink wink

really likes putting hickeys on you to a fault! but will never put any visible ones on your neck because he doesn’t want your parents to view him as some kind of animal (but he has nothing to worry about because your parents really like him and are grateful for the fact that he’s very loyal to you, and you guys grew up together so it’s only natural that your parents are accepting of him since they already know he has a good heart underneath that tough facade of his)

oh, and yuji starts learning how to knock whenever you come over (or shuts himself in his room for the meantime if he thinks it’s unsafe to step out of his room) because chances are, you’re probably making out with sukuna in his room or smth.

now onto the spicy stuff

when you and sukuna first started dating, the first thing you told him was that you weren’t ready to have sex yet because you were nervous and sukuna understood and told you that he was willing to wait for whenever you were ready.

but when you were ready though, it was kind of spontaneous and you weren’t even wearing a matching pair of bra and underwear that day

you two were chilling in your room watching some stupid (according to sukuna) animal documentary when suddenly you felt his hand on your thigh

dating sukuna and all, it was normal for him to have his hands on some part of your body (whether it be your thigh or your waist) while you two were in bed.

but you were feeling a bit bolder HORNEE than usual so you began to leave a hot trail of kisses starting from his jaw all the way down to his neck.

sukuna obviously got the memo but before those kisses could escalate into something more daring, he asked you once more if you were completely sure you wanted to do it and once you gave him the green light, he was quick to tug his shirt over his head and pounce on you.

he started getting really into it though and accidentally bit your thigh which made you loose your high and scold him for it, but he let out a hearty laugh and muttered a quick apology before getting back into business

sike i lied, remember what i said about it being spontaneous? yeah, you technically didn’t loose your virginity to him that day because after he finished prepping you, you both came to a realization that you didn’t have a condom.

oh well, there’s always next time!

i think sukuna is a sucker for pet names: his favorite thing to call you is either kitten or princess and that’s it LOL he finds calling you baby or babe is a bit too cheesy for him

but he likes it when you call him baby or babe ;)

date nights consist of either staying in and cuddling in his room, going out for a walk at night (but very very late though. there’s still lamp posts that guide your way through the streets but it gives you the heebie jeebies to be out walking outside so late. sukuna always reminds you that nothing bad will happen as long as he’s right by your side), or just spending time with you and your families.

but if you’re really down to do it, he’ll probably initiate a make out session that’ll lead to y’all fucking one way or another (he only ever does it if he is 100% sure that you’re feeling it because he knows you get easily embarrassed if he asks you straight up)

(this part is mainly written for me because i love the idea of sukuna being over at family functions, but it can be applied as part of the general hc heh) if you took him to any of your family functions as your plus one for the first time, all the aunts and uncles would be a bit wary of him at first due to all of the tattoos and piercings he has (sukuna swears he has never felt so self conscious before) but after they strike up a conversation with him and find out that he’s actually a good guy who knows what he wants to do in the future and is very loyal to you, they start to like him more.

your little cousins adore him and love it when he comes over because sukuna is a very tall high schooler which makes him the perfect candidate as a monkey bar

so when you noticed that all the little ones started to climb on his body and mess around with his hair, you were quick to react because you knew your boyfriend was easily irritable which prompted you to think he hated kids

but there was nothing to worry about because when you saw him playing around with them and even crack a smile, you felt your heart grow fuzzy at the sight and you knew right then and there that you wanted to stick by sukuna’s side for the rest of your life

and in the unfortunate circumstances that sukuna is too busy to make it to one of your functions, the first thing everyone asks is “where’s your boyfriend?” or “where’s ‘kuna? i wanna play with him!”

so you have to facetime him and let him know that everyone is wondering where he is (your phone is dead by the end of the night because after the adults get their turn at saying hi to your boyfriend, the kids snatch your phone and end up talking to him for the rest of the night)

but in conclusion, everyone is waiting for the day he gets on one knee to propose to you and your parents are itching to get to get call sukuna their son-in-law :))

also don’t forget that your parents want two grandchildren: one boy and one girl!

[thoughts-on-bangtan]

Hi! What are yours views on the recently released billboard article about bts? I assumed that people agreed on the fact that its was extremely disappointing and disrespectful towards bts but there are many ‘army’ blogs who are still defending that article

From anon: What do you think of the new Billboard article about the boys? 😓

I’ll be honest, I had a bit of a debate with myself if I want to post something about the article or not, if I want to draw more attention to it (like there’s literally anyone left who hasn’t heard about or read it), and if I want to get mad all over again. Since you’re reading this, we all know what conclusion I arrived at.

Usually I try to at least somewhat organize my answers to not jump around or angrily rant, but wow, I don’t know if I’ll be able to get that done this time so please bear with me this once. I’d also usually add direct copy+paste quotes and/or screenshots but I truly don’t want to give this article any clicks, or give that “journalist” and his writing even more direct attention, so this answer will have to do without them, I’m sorry. I’m sure you’ve all read the article, or at least seen parts of it, so you’ll know what I’m talking about in each instance.

You know, in all of this, besides the obvious awful aspects of it all, I also feel bad for the staff (not the Billboard journalist and the editors) involved in this, like for example the photographer who went in and took gorgeous pictures of the members, did his best working with them, only for said pictures to be forever attached to this dumpster fire. And the members who spent so much time during that photoshoot to get only the best results and yet, what does it even matter in the end. As well as the fact that they took time out of their busy schedules to meet the journalist, to answer whatever questions he had, to just end up having to read all...THAT.

As some pointed out, it is though very telling that none of the HYBE/BHM/BTS twt accounts have retweeted the Billboard twts with links to the article. That already basically tells you everything you need to know, as in, that the article isn’t worth our time and our braincells needed to read it.

After so many years I think most of us have come to expect basically nothing from interviews with literally any US publication, but especially magazines like The Hollywood Reporter (remember that mess?) and Billboard, and, well, the bar was in hell and yet they still managed to deliver a result that was, I think, one of or the worst article I’ve ever read on BTS. Especially since large parts of the article weren’t even about them? For a cover story about BTS, what’s up with the lack of interview, the minimal amount of quotes from their answers, the summarization of their supposed words, and the large focus on a “controversy” basically cooked up by haters on stan twt? And the “journalist”, who has shown in older twts that he has a negative bias toward BTS and ARMY, even taking direct quotes from stan twt accounts for western artists to illustrate his point, instead of, I don’t know, legit sources? Showing numbers or anything that would show credibility and a solid foundation for said argument? But instead it’s gossip and malicious accusation based on “I don’t like that this band is successful instead of my fave so I will accuse them of cheating while I ignore all the cheating my own fave partakes in”.

More below the cut:

Of course we were, once again, served the narrative that ARMY are just a bunch of manipulated teens which, let’s like talk about that for a second because there are a lot of layers to this and the further you look, the worse it looks for people like this journalist and everyone else like him openly shading ARMY. 

Let’s suppose ARMY really somehow were millions of girls ages 12 to 18 (who somehow have access to enough money to raise funds for music and also match BTS’ $1 million donation and spend money on so many different charity projects every year) and these journalists, most of them men usually above the age of 30, go around and basically belittle and “hate” on them. Do we see the problem here? The fact that in this case grown adults openly, in publications they are paid to write for, bully teenagers and kids simply because they don’t agree with the musician said teens and kids have decided to be a fan of and support. And because they are girls instead of soccer loving boys, as counter example.

A truly weird hill to be willing to d*e on just to make some kind of (negative) point if you ask me. 

Then of course there’s the whole thing that Mr. Journalist decided to go in with a narrative in mind and seriously sit down opposite Namjoon and basically ask him “hey, listen, what do you think about your crazy TEENAGE fans buying your music (truly the audacity, how dare they) and that they are cheating and manipulating the system? Like that’s not right, right?”. Bless Namjoon and his genius brain for being able to keep his cool and shut down that man with his amazing answer shifting the blame right back onto Billboard and how, if they don’t like people playing by the rules that they themselves have created, maybe they should look at their own system and reevaluate it instead of turning against and point a finger at BTS who, as Namjoon said himself, are simply an easy target because they are foreigners, because they sing in a language that isn’t English, and because they are Asian. And really, is there anything the US music industry hates more than foreigners, POC at that, being successful, or even more successful, than their industry supported artists? Don’t think so.

Also can we talk about how strange the argument of “bulk/mass buying” is when ARMY never goes over the limits Billboard themselves have set up, being four copies of a given song. If they truly were against people “bulk/mass buying” you’d think they would lower the number to one copy per person and that’s it, right, the way iTunes does it. And yet, they did not. Because “bulk/mass buying” is okay, just not when it’s ARMY and Bangtan.

Billboard: Buying multiple copies of the same song is bad and makes no sense. You’re cheating.

Also Billboard: Here, buy EIGHT copies of the same magazine, with the exact same contents but different covers, for $170+ in this neat little bundle.

Make it make sense, will you? Or at least be less obvious with what you’re doing.

It’s a problem when it’s done in a way that doesn’t benefit them, and the greater US music industry and their shady system, but when it does benefit them, it’s totally chill, easy, no problem? It’s so obvious, dumb, and kind of makes me want to laugh but also scream and/or knock my head against my table because it’s just so bizarre yet it’s treated like this all makes sense and is completely normal. And the sad thing is, it is normal. We, or BTS as umbrella term, are a problem because we get things done, we get achievements and #1s and numbers without giving in to payola, paid playlisting, bundles when they were still a thing, and without everything else the US labels do to push their artists into basically false fame. 

And that, ladies and gentlemen and nonbinary friends, is where the issue lies.

While talking about all of this among ourselves (as in ARMY at large) across sns, as well as taking into account some pondering by journalists questioning the intentions of the article, a thought arose and, now that I think about it, it sounds just too obvious and yet here we are. Voting season for the Grammys is coming up sometime soon-ish, and Billboard is one of the major publications that the voting members look at and read when considering who to give their vote to. Now imagine you’re a voting member who until this point had a positive, or at least neutral, opinion on BTS but on Monday you sit down and read this article? Would you still want to vote for an artist being accused of “chart manipulation” and supposedly claiming they didn’t actually want to do music in English but were forced into it despite originally saying something else?

No, right?

And that’s the point. 

This is nothing but a glorified smear campaign against Bangtan across lots, and I mean lots, of publications who picked up the narrative that this article presented and ran with it. The US music industry sees their success and feels threatened because they are showing that when you have true, organic success and a loyal fan following you don’t need any of the paid for tricks to achieve things, you don’t need payola, don’t need paid for playlisting on streaming websites, and don’t need US industry backing. You can do it all on your own, therefore these exploitative systems and institutions don’t make any money off of you which is obviously unacceptable. Even more so when you could actually win, or at least again be nominated, for what is regarded as the supposedly most prestigious music award, aka the Grammys. So, since they know they can’t get rid of ARMY, can’t discourage us from supporting BTS, they go for their image and reputation instead. And that’s what this article tried to achieve. Show that, wow, in the end all the “dark side of K-Pop” stories were true all along because even poor, poor BTS are puppets of their evil agency after all, are forced into things, and are used to manipulate their gullible teenage fans into throwing money at them and manipulating the charts.

How come we’re the only ones who see just how f*cked up all of this is? And the few journalists who are on our side?

Lastly, can we talk about just how weird the use of and the quotes themselves from the members were? Most felt not only out of place, out of context, but also so weirdly out of character some ARMY have started to question how much of their “quoted words” are actually theirs and how much might be, essentially, fabricated/twisted to fit the desired narrative the journalist had from the get go. I know a certain crowd, you know which one I mean, jumped onto what was said about the english songs but also especially the final quote from Seokjin at the end of the article that essentially boiled down to “we were so annoyed and overworked we said screw everything, especially our agency, and now we only trust each other” or something to that effect. Am I the only one who thinks that quote sounded nothing like something Seokjin would say? Yes, he’s said cheeky things in the past, he’s also said bold things, like his entire speech against sajaegi back in 2019, but each time he was polite and stuck to his manners while doing so, yet this? I don’t know, something about it just feels very off. Or JKs quote about how he sacrificed more than just his youth to be who he is now. While we know that is true, after all he became a trainee at a very young age and spent the better part of his teenage years as idol on stage, but has he ever spoken about that negatively? In such a manner?

Someone suggested that interviewers should publish transcripts of the original Korean answers and questions that BTS were asked in order to offer some transparency and also for us to know that what they are quoted saying are actually things they did say. I know that’s very unlikely to ever happen, just wishful thinking on my/our part, especially when a hit piece article is attached to it, but in moments like this, it really would be very helpful. For us, but also to add credibility to such articles and the context in which said quotes are used.

Now, for the ‘ARMYs’ who defended this article, to be honest, I’d very much question how much of an ARMY someone is when they can go and read this article and agree with it. How? I get that for some the things in this article played right into their manti agenda, but mantis aren’t ARMY. And the crowd who decided to, instead of blaming the journalist for the narrative he tried to push with all its negative implications, blamed HYBE/BHM instead? Are you serious? That isn’t how journalism works, or at least it shouldn’t be. HYBE/BHM can’t just go in and say “we don’t like this article, change it”, that’s not how freedom of press works, and also, do you realize how weird it is that you are blaming an Asian agency for a hit piece published by a western publication?

What was interesting though was that, as example, the online merch store Cokodive made a statement on their IG page in which they said the following:

So even they, who could’ve directly benefited from selling the magazine, decided that it wouldn’t be right because that article is a travesty. It’s a small thing in the grand scheme of things, yet it shows that it isn’t just ARMY who are being “sensitive little snowflakes who can’t take criticism” but also others outside the fandom who also see the disrespect within the article and its blatant negativity and lack objectivity.

Personally I saved the pictures but I refuse to give views directly to Billboard when it comes to the “Things you didn’t know about BTS” video as well as the behind the scenes clips of the members regardless of how beautiful they are. And I refuse to give their website and this article any more clicks than I already gave them while reading the article in the first place.

You can be critical of an artists success, you can wonder how they, specifically, managed to become as successful as they did, but what you can’t do is completely ignore shady practices of other artists while attacking those who don’t partake in any of them simply because they manage to fill stadiums and get #1s without those practices. At the end of the day, just like Forbes once said that BTS don’t need the Grammys but the Grammys need BTS, in the same way BTS don’t need Billboard and their shady articles and twts, but Billboard needs BTS for clicks and views and therefore revenue. 

As longtime ARMY it also saddens me having watched Bangtan become more and more disillusioned with the US market, as well as ARMY going through the same thing. Then again, like Namjoon said in the article, it isn’t their goal to become mainstream in the US, all they want is to have a big tour and that’s it. Nothing more.

As twt says: this article should’ve just stayed in the drafts.

[anotherimaginethatblog]

Family Gatherings

Meet the parents.

Pairing: Kenny x reader

Warnings: small mention of something cheeky ... maybe more in part 2

Summary: you finally make the trip to meet Kenny’s family.

so i finally found the time to sit and write a little and this ended up being a lil longer than expected bit ive enjoyed writing this one, probably be a part two (possibly 3) so let me know what you think x 

hope you like it 

You were nervous, you had been since the day Kenny booked your airline ticket to Winnipeg so you could finally meet his family. You had heard all the stories about them, and they sounded lovely, but you were still, naturally nervous. Constant thoughts had flown through your head since the day you packed, what if they didn’t like you? Didn’t approve of you? you took another sip of your drink hoping the soothing flavour would relax you.

An hour later the pilot informed the plane full of weary passengers that the flight would be making its late arrival at the airport shortly, you began to gather your things up and pack them back into your designer backpack Kenny had bought you as a gift but couldn’t help thinking you’d made a mistake by bringing it, what if they thought you were showing off? Too gaudy? “breathe” you told yourself “it’ll be fine, they’ll love you” you said trying to boost your self-confidence.

“sorry mam, but would you mind stowing your bag? Were going to land soon that’s all” asked the kind stewardess who had given you that extra miniature off the drinks trolly earlier, probably due to the anxiety she saw on your face after striking up a conversation about why you’d be visiting Winnipeg in November.

“sure, sorry” you smiled back.

 Finally, After the stress of the queue at passport control, your bag coming off the plane last and trying to find your way out of the baggage hall altogether you were here. You grabbed your phone out of your bag to see a text from Kenny already, “waiting in the arrivals hall, ring me when your out” it read. You dialled his number and he picked up immediately, so quick he must have been waiting for you thought. “finally, you here yet?” he laughed.

“yeah, just got through, been a nightmare” you replied, “where you at?” you asked him.

“just at the coffee shop with my dad, well wait here for you. You’ll see it if you walk to the end”.

“okay babes see you in a sec” you replied before hanging up, instantly feeling nervous. His dad. You were going to meet his dad for the first time in an airport after hours of travel. Fantastic.

You saw Kenny straight away, those two-tone curls where recognisable anywhere. He looked relaxed and rested whilst he sat chatting to his dad unbeknown to you about how nervous he was for you to see his home and family. “what if she thinks I’m a huge loser once she’s seen I’m just a weird kid from Canada?” he asked his dad. His anxiety spiking in anticipation.

“she won’t, she sounds a great girl and clearly likes you so stop worrying.” His dad replied smiling at his son.

So deep in conversation they hadn’t seen you approach, “hey ken” you said, smiling from ear to ear at finally being reunited.

“babe, you look amazing, I missed you so much” said Kenny, words spilling out with a huge smile in his face as he looked you up and down, clearly appreciating the effort you had made. “this is my dad, (y/n)” he said stepping to the side to introduce the older gentleman who looked very much like his son.

“hi, I’m (y/n), I’m so happy to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you Kenny always talks about you” you replied any nerves melting away at how normal and nice he seemed, internally laughing at why you were so nervous in the first place.

“nice to meet you too, we’ve heard everything about you I’m so glad you managed to make it out. Big freeze on the way” he said. “let’s get home, before it’s too dark and your mother kills us for being late.” He laughed.

Kenny grabbed your bags and you both followed to the car as soon as you left the terminal you regretted your choice of coat. The leather jacket though warm was not enough to keep your heat against the cold Canadian weather “I told you to get a good coat (y/n)” said Kenny shaking his head at you.

“okay, I just thought you where exaggerating” you replied shivering.

“your so cute, its not far to walk” he said.

After realising Kenny’s definition of short walk was not the same as yours you reached the car and were incredibly grateful when his dad opened it for you so you could jump straight in. “thankyou” you told him while he cranked the heat up for you.

“no problem, its not a far drive either so well have you home and warm in a little while” he told you smiling at your lack of appreciation for the Canada winters.

 After a 40-minute drive you were at Kenny’s childhood home, it was just what you had imagined after hearing all of the stories from him about living in the suburbs as a kid. It was your classic suburban home with a lawn out front and a porch to sit on. It was actually really cute, you where excited to see inside. Kenny’s dad got out and left you two to make your way in, all of a sudden you where back to the nervous girl on the plane with the millions of questions about whether you where enough flooding your brain. All of a sudden Kenny planted his lips on yours and you snapped out of whatever you where thinking of immediately “they’re gonna love you, because I love you” he said. It was like he could read your mind and you kissed him back, you’d missed him so much in the time you’d been apart and if it wasn’t for being in his dads car outside his parents house you’d have climbed over and had him right there in the car. The moment was perfect for it … but the location was severely lacking. “we better get in the house before my mom sends my dad back out to get us” he smirked pulling away, clearly thinking the same thoughts you had been a few minutes prior.

“okay” you smiled back “lets go”.

 Once inside the house you felt relaxed all of a sudden, it felt like a home and all the stress you had had about the visit faded away. You took your coat and shoes off and followed Kenny into the kitchen where a beautiful blonde lady stood at the counter. “Tyson, and this must be (y/n). your so pretty” she said patting her son on the shoulder in an approving manor.

“thanks mom, I’m glas you two finally get to spend some time together. It’ll be nice to have the family all under one roof again.” He replied, with his mum giving you the once over.

“I’m so glad you’ve finally brought us a girl home, I thought you’d never setlle down to be honest” she said teasing her only son.

“mom” he said laughing back “I’m gonna take our stuff up, my room yeah?” he asked

“mhmm, and (y/n) across the hall” she said trying to gauge her sons reaction.

“your joking, I’m a grown man mom” said Kenny laughing trying to cover for the fact he’d been wanting to get you into bed since he’d seen you in the airport in those skin tight pants he loved so much.

“Its fine” you interjected not wanting to upset Kenny’s mum and to stop a fight over a room before you’d even settled in. “its fine, I totally respect that. We respect that don’t we ken” you said looking at him with pleading eyes to drop it.

“fine, its fine” he said turning to walk upstairs leaving His mum feeling guilty, though she would never admit it. Honestly she had no problem with the two of you sharing a room but who wants to hear the inevitable through thin walls on the first weekend of meeting your sons possible future wife.

“thankyou” she mouthed quietly to you smiling at how gracious and kind you had been at trying to avoid an awkward situation on your first meeting. You smiled back and followed Kenny upstairs to your room for the next few days. It was a gorgeous guest room, you dropped your bags off and crossed the hall to see Kenny in his childhood room. It was painted blue and like you expected there where wrestling and hockey pictures and posters all over the walls. “cute,” you said smiling at him

“its changed a little but not much” he said smiling back “my mom painted but put all my pictures back up” he laughed.

“that’s sweet, she probably wanted it to be the same for when you got back” you said.

“not that I ever got the chance much” Kenny sadly replied.

“she understood why though” you mentioned reassuringly with your arm on his back.

“you know, I never thought id get a hot girl in my room” he said laughing

“you still wont” you said getting up to go downstairs “come on lets go hang out” you laughed Kenny following reluctantly.

 you spent the rest of the evening chilling out in the kitchen, drinking wine with his mum while him and his dad watched sports on tv. “I’m glad I got to meet you” his mum said to you smiling

“me too, I’m so glad to finally meet everyone and happy for Kenny to spend some family time at home, he’s always on the road I’ve told him he needs to make more of an effort” his mum appreciating your words.

“yeah but he’s busy doing what he loves, I would never tear him away from that” she said laughing at him and his dad.

A few hours later it was time to head to bed, his mum and dad had called it a night a few hours earlier but you and Kenny had stayed up to chill and watch a little tv together. “I’m heading up babe” you said pecking him on the cheek

“okay babe me too then” he said getting up to turn everything off  before following you upstairs

You waited for him at the top of the stairs, pulling him into a hug “guess ill see you in the morning” you teased

“unless you wanna sneak over in a little bit” he teased

“Kenny … no, I don’t want to disrespect your mom” you said back shrugging.

“okay okay, can I at least get a hand job in the bathroom” he laughed  

“goodnight Kenny” you said turning to walk away.

After completing your evening routine you settled down for the night, it was hard to drift off knowing your man was just over the hall, who you had been dying to touch since before the last time you had said goodbye all those weeks ago. Eventually your eyes began to feel heavy and just as you where settling in for the night your phone began to buzz, straight away you knew who it was. – im lonely- it read, you rolled your eyes, it was gonna be along night.

[jubberry]

oohkay let's go tua with those ship asks: fiveya, horrance and alluther.

thanks el i love you

Send me a ship and I'll answer three questions based on if I ship it or not.

fiveya obvs i ship this since this is 90% of my tua drawings lol

1. ill wait ill wait (to be the one) by georgiestauffenberg made me ship it cause holy fuck dude. I dont know if i ship them romantically when i saw them onscreen cause first of all, age difference is kinda weird lmao. Second, they dont rlly interact much outside literally the first couple of eps. But he was so soft for her, and i felt like they had so much unexplored history.

so i looked at fanfics cause i was wondering if ppl still ship it, then i liked the description of this one so i gave it a go.

Basically the premise is that vanya dates a much older man who seems to know a lot about her. And it was amazingly in character and just provided their characters some depth that u wouldnt find outside of a romantic relationship between them. (The implication of five pining while she doesnt know who he is, their missed chances when he time travelled, fives missed chances of living and having a 'normal' life bec of his own hubris, vanyas insecurity and being able to open up bec shes with someone whos known her since childhood). Its so sweet and thats how i was like, oh yep i can do so much more with these two, and what has kept me interested in drawing them etc.

2. My favourite things are the shippers cause i made some friends in the fandom who are super cool and supportive! I dont get super involved in fandoms and usually just watch from afar so finding people to talk to and muck around with in this tiny fandom is super cool 😭

Though thats not to say I havent come across some bad apples in this fandom and things that I dont like. I think thats the importance of carving out a place for yourself and ur friends in fandom tho.

Another thing I like about the ship itself, i just like the grumpy person whos soft for one person trope. Its so cute. I like all the little clues in canon on how their relationship as kids is quite warm, which is interesting cause five is basically the star student and he can be quite cold vs vanya who is the black sheep of the family.

I also like how five likes her powers even when she caused the apocalypse he spent the majority of his life in lol. Like its a popular hc that five is just a wife guy and i love that.

I see vanya as the type who has a lot of love to give, and she sometimes has unrealistic expectations of what her partner can give. Betrayal and lies really angers her, but also when her partner cannot meet her expectations of love she gets very upset bec its also an indication of how shes not good enough, or not loveable enough to be able to have this in the relationship (her insecurity means every failing always comes back to her, even if its out of her control).

I feel like five would be a level-headed person enough in the relationship to not be afraid to say 'vanya ur being stupid' (ie. the s2 confrontation lmao). Also, five's personality means she will never have to doubt his actions bec she knows hes the type who will not give u the moment of the day if hes not interested.

Not to mention they also have the whole apocalypse vs. saviour, hero/villain thing. Theres just a lot to explore!

3. I probably have several. But mostly I dont mind five being a dick to vanya bec first, even if the appeal is hes soft to her hes already kind of a dick in canon lmao. Also, vanya isnt a child. Shes grown and she can handle petty af things like five telling her shes not good at cooking lol. I also dont mind it cause I feel like people are getting too afraid to write... conflict for fear or portraying an abusive relationship or smth. Like, chill. Conflict is fine, resolving it is how u get a story. However in saying that, nobody should be obligated to write any way unless you want to! Fanfic is for comfort so if what your doing is making u happy then its good enough!

horrance which i also ship but i love the platonic and romantic relationship equally:

1. I came in tua in general not shipping anything so Im honestly not sure. I do remember someone doing a meta before s2 came out that was basically how ben acted weird when klaus summoned dave in s1 that made me go 👀 Otherwise, tua s2 rlly made me like them cause tua FED horrance shippers. Like..... the fact that klaus didnt want ben to leave him, and ben knows thats why he stayed 😢 or the fact that klaus was all over him for some reason???? Somebody also mentioned gay ben once and I resonate with that deeply. Like i get that jill exists but i resonate with gay ben deeply.

2. I love their bickering, theyre so cute together. I just like ben being angry bec hes self aware that hes got both shit and amazing taste. Shit bec he cant believes he likes Klaus (and also amazing also bec Klaus). I think the idea of them being kind of underdogs, theyre not rlly leader types and dont want to be, helps them bond together even in platonic horrance. They're both down to earth, and even tho they can annoy each other, they also know if they want a space to feel comfortable its with each other. Theyre not pressured by rivalry over leadership, or any sort of competition.

I love the idea that even tho ben is like klaus's ''conscience'', hes also down for chaos and bitchy. I feel like klaus rlly enabled that side of him, its not exactly a good thing but its p funny lol

3. I know some people think their dynamic is unhealthy but i dont care lol

alluther. So id say i dont ship this, mostly due to the fact that im not invested? Just like all tua ships so far I rlly came out not wanting anything but platonic relationships cause I feel tua doesnt do romance very well. With alluther, theyre so cute but im not super invested in either of their chars so they havent stuck for me. I appreciate seeing them and talking about them tho, and I'm def open to exploring them further.

1. I think tua canon romances are just so lackluster 😔 Idk who writes the romances but I was just like 'nice' but afterwards I dont really think about them. I love their dance scene and the message behind it! Otherwise, theyre sweet like most of the tua romances but im not super invested, same with all the non canon ships.

2. I really feel like tua needs to decide on what their relationship is. Like, just say its incest or not and stick with it 👀 Or if you wanna support it or not, just make up ur mind. I think I would've liked it better if I found the characters more interesting. Allison especially I feel like suffers from the fact that tua just doesn't want to make her ''mean''. They want to make her supportive and are less interested in making her flawed (ie. she should've had a conflict with Vanya in s2, but the writers didnt want to write the girls fighting which is stupid imo and not what that conflict is about).

In regards to Alluther, the scene where Allison gets annoyed at Luther for sleeping with someone else felt out of line. Like, how are you marrying other people and moving on but Luther isn't allowed to? But honestly, I don't mind if they actually just acknowledge it and make it a deliberate part of Allison's trait that Allison can expect a certain loyalty automatically from other people (which can tie in to her childhood being a star, and the rumour).

Luther is a big simp for Allison, which is sweet, but at the same time it would be nice to have him explore himself for a bit, and who he is outside of the academy. Then maybe they can rekindle their relationship again as new people and see where they go from there.

3. I don't hate them, but they're ok. I'm not super invested in them, just like all the tua canon romance. But I wouldn't mind making content for them if I were a bit more invested in their characters. I love their dance scene in s1 and I feel like its super a underrated portrayal of what their relationship is meant to be. I know no one talks about it but it's just such a great scene, and I'm pretty sure the choreographer was into interpretive dance? The scene had a lot of meaning that I don't see people dig around with.

Essentially I'm pretty sure the fairy lights are obviously a throwback to their childhood together, spending time outside of Reggie. So the dance scene kind of symbolized that pocket of space they made for each other in their life (even if theyre far away, or with other people, they will always have that space for each other).

The way they danced was more like playfighting than dancing, which means their relationship isn't sensual. It's more ''pure'', and romantic. Its basically two kids rekindling their love as adults. I also think this is a response to the incest, cause in s1 tua klaus literally said that 'thank god Regg is not their real father' right before Allison and Luther meet lmao. So its kinda like saying Allison x Luther isnt supposed to be 'ohh step sibling hot' but two people who experienced the same trauma as kids and finding comfort with each other (and rekindling that love after many years).

[heauxplesslydevoted]

Miami Nights (Ethan x MC)

Warning: 18+, NSFW.

Summary: While in Miami to celebrate their upcoming wedding, Ethan and Naomi sneak away from the festivities to have their own celebration.

A/N: Like all of my NSFW fics, this was 100% self indulgent and written with only me in mind. 

Tags: @fanmantrashcan @ao719 @x-kyne-x @colourmeshy @writinghereandthere @paulfwesley @ramseyandrys @perriewinklenerdie @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @hatescapsicum @lapisreviewsstuff @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramsey @the-soot-sprite @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @miyakokurono @trappedinfandoms @my-heart-beats-for-ya @adrian-motherfucking-raines @riverrune @edith-eggs1 @thatysn @bellcat2010 @theeccentricbibliophile @cecilecontrera @junehiratas @choices-love-affair @openheart12 @kaavyaethanramsey @caseyvalentineramsey @desmaranj @mal-volaris @whatchique @nazario-sayeed @aestheticartsx @ruinedbypixels @mvalentine @nooruleman @rookie-ramsey

As always, let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged. And if your tags do not work, I’m sorry, and blame Tumblr. ~v~ In a perfect world, Ethan Ramsey would be at home, on his couch, a good book in one hand and a tumbler of scotch in the other. The last place he necessarily wants to be is in the crowded bar of a Miami hotel, sandwiched between a 21 year old girl and her friends, and some guy crying into his pint of beer.

The things Ethan does for love.

Coming to Miami was Naomi’s idea. She wanted a fun weekend away for their bachelor and bachelorette parties, and Miami was the only place she even considered going. What better way to celebrate their upcoming nuptials than to go to the city, specifically the hotel that started it all?

He hasn’t seen her all day, her friends kidnapping her as soon as their plane touched down. He misses her. They’ve been attached at the hip ever since they began dating, even more so after she moved into his condo, and being without her feels strange, even if it’s only for a night. And while he’s grown fond of Naomi’s merry band of misfits, spending the entire night with Bryce, Elijah, and Rafael requires more patience than he has.

He’s spent the entire day with them, and his capacity to be around other people has reached its limit. So while the guys were making plans of going to a strip club, Ethan left altogether, quietly slipping out of their room.

Ethan feels a tap on his shoulder. “Excuse me, is this seat taken?”

He’d recognize that voice anywhere, the slight drawl of Naomi’s accent when she has to pronounce certain words. Once he’s turned around, all thoughts of what he could possibly say are gone.

After two years together, Naomi’s beauty shouldn’t stun him anymore, but she still manages to render him speechless.

“Wow,” is the word his brain finally settles on.

Forever the drama queen, Naomi twirls around so her fiancé can get a full look at the sparkly dress she’s wearing. “I take it you like the dress?”

“You look beautiful.” 

“Thank you.” Her eyes sweep over Ethan, taking him in. He’s not doing anything in particular, but his presence is still commanding and magnetic. “You look pretty handsome yourself. Now, do you care to tell me why you’re missing your bachelor party?”

“I didn’t want to go to a strip club,” Ethan says simply. “And Lahela kept referring to us in third person, calling us ‘The Boys’ all night. It was becoming tiresome, so I left.”

“You can’t leave your own bachelor party.”

“Says the woman who ditched her bachelorette party,” Ethan shoots back.

Naomi rolls her eyes. “I only left my bachelorette party because you texted me to meet you down here.”

“I was simply over the night,” he says with a shrug. “We did a bit of gambling, we went to a cigar lounge, we got dinner. That’s more than enough entertainment for me. The other guys will be fine for the rest of the night if I’m not there.”

“Well if you’re checking out for the night, so am I.”

“No, you can still enjoy the festivities with your friends.”

Naomi shrugs. “Kyra and Sienna went too hard on the tequila shots at the club, and they’re currently passed out. Aurora, Jackie, and I were just in their room talking.”

“About anything in particular?”

“Mostly hospital gossip, nothing major.” Naomi takes a step forward and wraps her arms around Ethan’s neck. “Take me to our room, we can order room service and have our own celebration.”

One of Ethan’s eyebrows raises at the command. His hand travels to his fiancée’s hip, squeezing roughly. “Oh yeah? What kind of celebration?”

“I don’t know,” Naomi says, playing coy. “But I’m sure you can come up with something, doctor.”

~v~

They manage to get to their floor in record time, after Ethan requests that a bottle of wine get sent up to their room, which is a miracle because they spend entirely too much time stumbling through the halls, stealing kisses and touching each other.

Because they got separated early in the day, Naomi didn’t get a chance to see the room she and Ethan would be staying in for the weekend. As soon as he slides the key card through the door and pushes it open, Naomi just knows.

It’s the same suite she and Ethan shared the first time they visited The Celestial. “Ethan, this is...wow.”

“I take it you’re surprised?”

“I’m more than surprised.”

Naomi wanders around the room, her fingers lightly touching all of the fixtures. The bedding is still the same, white and lavender, the room open and light. It even smells the same, and suddenly she’s transported back in time, 3 years ago.

Leaving Ethan where he’s standing, Naomi heads to the balcony, throwing open the sliding glass door. Everything is so still, weird for a city like Miami that’s constantly buzzing with energy. She doesn’t notice Ethan step out a minute later, a chilled bottle of merlot and two glasses in his hand.

He pops open the bottle and pours them both a glass, handing one to her. “Would you like to toast?”

“Sure.” Naomi raises her glass. “Here’s to us, our upcoming nuptials, and the best marriage the world has ever seen.”

“That’s a bold toast.” Ethan gently clinks his glass against hers. “I’ll drink to that.”

Naomi takes a hearty sip, ignoring all of the tips a sommelier usually gives on how to drink, the fruitiness of the wine taking over. She watches as Ethan heads to the railing, his own glass less than full.

“I still can’t believe you managed to get this room,” she says, sighing wistfully, overlooking the ocean from her vantage point. “How did you pull it off?”

“Everyone has a price. I said money was no object, and when I told them it was a surprise for my fiancée, they were a bit more inclined to help.”

“Really?” Ethan hums and nods in response. 

“I told them the room has sentimental value to me,” he explains further. “It’s the room where I realized I was utterly helpless against your charms.”

“Ethan Ramsey, you’re truly a romantic at heart.”

He’ll never get used to hearing her praise him so openly. Ethan ducks his head down so Naomi can’t see the flush creeping up his neck at the compliment. “You bring out this romantic side of me.”

She goes to join him at the railing. He doesn’t say anything, but he slips his arm around her waist, pulling her close.

Butterflies bloom in her stomach at his words. It’s nice to know that their first trip to Miami means so much to him, because it was an absolute game changer for her.

“I remember everything about that night so vividly,” Naomi says, her voice almost a whisper.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Losing to Declan in that poker match, coming out here, sharing a bottle of pinot noir, and talking about Naveen and my dreams for the type of doctor I want to be. I remember it all.”

“And then we kissed,” Ethan adds.

“Oh yeah, we did kiss, huh? I can’t believe I almost forgot that.”

“Ha ha, Rookie.”

“You know I’m just kidding. Of course I remember that kiss. It was the start of quite the journey for us.” A pained look flashed across Ethan’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“I kissed you and then I immediately reneged. I started us on that ridiculous journey and wasted so much precious time because I didn’t want to admit that I was falling for you.”

“Hey.” Naomi grabs Ethan’s hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “I love you, and look at where we are right now. We’re getting married next week, we’re starting the rest of our lives together. Yes, the journey took a bit longer than I had hoped, but I don’t think I’d change anything in our past. It’s led us to this moment right here.”

“How are you so much more...wise and articulate than me?”

Naomi shrugs. “It’s a gift. Not everyone is privileged to possess it.”

“You remember all of the broad strokes of that night in Miami, but I’m more fond of the tiny details.”

“Like what?”

“I remember your blue dress and how it matched my eyes,” he starts. “I remember the sweet smell of your perfume, jasmine. I remember your coconut shampoo. I remember the way your pupils dilated when you saw me step out of the shower.” Ethan pulls Naomi closer to him and one of his hands gently cups her face. “It’s the same look you gave me when you realized that I threw that poker game for Naveen’s benefit, one of pure awe.”

“Your skin was incredibly soft,” Ethan continues, his finger tracing a nonsensical pattern on her collarbone. “Like silk. And it still is. But you want to know my favorite memory of that night?”

“Wh-what?”

A hand underneath her chin, Ethan tilts Naomi’s head up, their lips dangerously close. If she moves just a hair closer, they’ll be kissing. She’s tempted to just take the plunge, but she’s frozen, trapped under a spell of his.

With that, Ethan’s mouth descends on hers, pulling Naomi into a kiss with a ferocity she wasn’t expecting. She melts into it immediately, moaning, her hand flying to the back of his neck, getting tangled in the hair at the nape. She can taste the wine of him, the sweet taste of cherries as tongue slips into her mouth, deepening the kiss.

Ethan pulls away only to nip at the corner of her mouth. “That fucking moan of yours. The tiny little noise you make at the back of your throat whenever you’re aroused. It’s been playing in my head on a loop ever since.”

His beard scratches a path down Naomi’s neck and shoulder as he kisses her.

“You want to make that sound for me again?” Naomi nods frantically, desperate for whatever is about to come her way. “Good girl.”

Taking her hand, Ethan pulls her away from the railing. Instead of heading back into their suite, he presses her into the tall pillar next to them, barely giving her enough time to put down her wine glass. The exposed skin of her back collides into the pillar with a soft thud.

“Out here?” She asks with a squeak as Ethan tugs at her dress.

Ethan shrugs. “Why not?”

His lips are on her neck again in an instant, clouding her judgment and making it harder to respond. “Someone can–” she dissolved into a fit of moans at Ethan’s ministrations. “Someone can see us.”

“We’re thirty floors up,” Ethan deadpans. “And it’s pitch black out here, no one will see us.” He grabs her hips, pulling her flush against him, and Naomi gasps at how hard he is. “Now hearing you, that’s another story. You’re loud and I have every intention to make you scream.”

If he wasn’t holding onto her, Naomi is sure she would’ve fallen over at his words. Ethan’s cockiness is on full display, and arrogant Ethan was definitely one of her favorite versions of him.

Ethan pulls away, giving Naomi a bit of breathing room so she can properly think again. “Does that sound like a plan, Valentine? Me having my way with you right here on this balcony?”

“God, yes.” She ignores the way he smirks at her unbridled eagerness. Ethan has a healthy enough ego without her stroking it.

“Correct answer, Rookie.”

Ethan’s hand wraps around the silky material at the top of Naomi’s dress and yanks it down. Naomi hears the ripping of the material and her eyes fly open in shock at the cool Miami air hitting her exposed chest.

“We’re going to have to talk about the serious lack of respect you have for my clothing.”

“You told me you got this dress because someone you called a “Pictagram influencer” advertised it and had a coupon code making it 70% cheaper,” Ethan counters.

“Yes, the dress was cheap, but you have to stop ripping all of my clothes.”

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“With a new dress?”

Ethan rolls his eyes at his fiancée’s quip, but he ignores it. “Something better.” He kisses down her neck and chest, stopping to wrap his lips around her nipple, biting down gently.

It takes a second for Naomi to register that the source of the unladylike growl filling the air is her. She grips Ethan’s shoulder to steady herself, her nails digging through his shirt, and her head falls forward at the sensation.

“You’re always so responsive to me,” Ethan murmurs softly. His mouth descends on her other nipple, his tongue flattening over the pebbled bit of flesh. “And I don’t even have to do anything to you.”

“Well, can you do something to me?”

“You young people have no patience,” Ethan clicks his tongue teasingly. Slowly, he sinks down to his knees in front of Naomi, tugging her dress down with him. He’s already ripped it, there’s no use in exercising any more care. The sparkly dress pools at Naomi’s feet and she kicks it away.

“You old people move too slow–”

The words die on her throat as Ethan hooks a finger into the band of underwear and tugs them down at a frenzied pace. His calloused fingers dig into her hips, hard enough to bruise. She always calls him old, teasing him into accepting whatever challenge she’s thrown his way. “I’ll show you old, Rookie.”

Leaving her hip, one of Ethan’s hands travels to her knee, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. He hooks her leg over his shoulder, giving him more leverage.

She can feel his breath, warm and tickling on the inside of her thigh, so close, yet so far away from where she actually needs him to be. Her hips fly forward, a silent plea for him to continue this little game they’re playing. Thankfully Ethan doesn’t tease her any further as his tongue flies out, licking at her folds.

Naomi inhales sharply and she nearly hikes up the wall at the sensation. “Oh, God.”

“You’re so wet for me, Naomi,” Ethan whispers against the overly sensitive flesh.

He dives back in, moaning against her and Naomi throws her head back at the vibration. “Always for you.”

She can tell by the way his blue eyes sparkle as they lock eyes that he’s smirking. But Naomi doesn’t have time to care about that because his lips wrap around her clit and he sucks hard. Naomi cards her fingers through his hair, tugging at him roughly, like she will die if he doesn’t keep his attention right where it is. 

It doesn’t last long though, and with ridiculous strength and skill, Ethan manages to grab her wrists in one hand, and keeps her hips planted against the pole with the other. Naomi receives the message loud and clear: he’s in control here, unequivocally.

Secure in the fact that she won’t be doing too much moving, Ethan doubles down, his tongue lapping at her. The familiar scratch of his beard against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh only makes her more delirious with lust.

Molten core levels of heat prick at every bit of her skin, from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes. Her stomach tightens and there’s a tingle at the base of her spine. She’s close and it’s not fair that he can make her come this quick, and she’s not sure if she hates it or loves it. “I’m gonna–”

“I know.”

Ethan pulls away slightly, but Naomi doesn’t get the chance to whine about it. In an instant, he’s slipped a finger inside of her, earning a groan. He is just so...relentless in his goal, and Naomi barely has a chance to breathe before she’s keening (something so dramatic and unlike her. Ethan will never let her live it down). Her orgasm is swift, crashing into her like a tidal wave, knocking her off kilter almost instantly. Ethan doesn’t back away, his mouth still on her, working her through the release.

Her entire body is buzzing, still wracked with aftershocks when Ethan finally stands up. His eyes are dark, no longer the ocean blue they usually are, now taking on something closer to the midnight sky, fully dilated and hooded. His mouth is wet, slick with...well her, and Naomi has never wanted to kiss him more.

“That was a promising start,” Ethan says. “But it’s just that: a start. I’m nowhere near done with you.”

A start? If Naomi had the energy to do so, she would laugh at him, but one look in Ethan’s eyes lets her know that he’s being serious. She gulps audibly. She’s a shaky puddle of goo right now, and that was only the beginning?

“Turn around, hands against the pillar,” Ethan commands.

“Wh-what?”

“You heard me loud and clear, Naomi. Hands out, ass up.”

He’s using his commanding doctor voice on her, and she loves it. Naomi does what she’s told, palms flat against the pillar holding up the balcony.

She hears rustling from behind, and she’s sure he’s undressing. Now she’s extremely aware of their power imbalance: she’s stark naked, save for a pair of high heels, while he’s still fully dressed. It’s not fair. Shifting slightly, Naomi lifts a foot and shakes it, hoping to get the shoe off in one fell swoop.

She’s stopped short of her plan as a sharp smack is delivered to her ass. She’s unable to contain the expletive in her throat, a loud, “Fuck!” drifting into the Miami air.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Ethan asks.

“Taking off these heels.”

He tsks at her, as if the answer isn’t good enough. “I don’t remember giving you permission to do so.”

The authoritative tone zips straight through her, and Naomi turns to face him, putting on her best doe eyes. “I’m sorry, sir.”

“Christ.” Naomi didn’t know it was possible, but Ethan’s eyes darken even further at the word. He doesn’t bother stripping out the rest of his clothes, just quickly undoing his belt and pushing his pants down until they pool at his ankles. Without warning, Ethan wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him. Naomi’s back collides with his chest with a hard thud. “Kiss me.”

That’s not a command that needs repeating. Naomi tilts her head back in an attempt to kiss him, but their vast height difference and Ethan’s death grip on her make it a challenge. She just barely manages to capture the corner of his mouth before Ethan growls impatiently, and grabs her neck, forcing her head back to deepen the kiss.

It’s overwhelming and heady, and she’s so caught up in it, she doesn’t even realize his cock, hard and pulsing, is poised at the entrance until he plunges into her in one smooth thrust.

If he wanted her loud, he got what he asked for, because Naomi breaks their kiss in order to scream at the welcome intrusion. The air rushes from her lungs, and she can’t even begin to breathe again before Ethan pulls out and enters her again with just as much intensity as before.

She feels delirious, and she can’t pinpoint why. Maybe it’s the fact that they’re 400 feet above solid ground, and one look down makes her head spin. Maybe it’s the fact that someone, somewhere in this hotel knows exactly what they’re doing. Maybe it’s the fact that every inch of her skin burns deliciously as Ethan has her stretched at full fucking capacity, and she has nowhere to run or hide. There’s no sheets she can pull, no pillows to muffle her moans, nothing she can grab onto to anchor herself to reality. She’s suspended in this moment, and she can’t do anything but simply take it as Ethan fucks into her like a madman.

The noises she’s making along with the sound of their skin slapping together is wildly obscene, and it only spurs Ethan on. Abandoning her throat, his hand travels down to her chest, his forefinger and thumb pinching her nipple, bringing the tiny nub to an almost painfully hard peak. He makes sure to give the same level of attention to the other nipple, torturing his fiancée until she’s whining unintelligibly.

His lips find her earlobe and he bites down. “Are you close again?”

“Yes,” Naomi answers.

Instead of speeding up, Ethan slows down, his thrusts slowing down to an agonizingly deep pace, fully pulling out of her and thrusting in again at a leisurely pace, the sole intent of driving her insane.

“Ethan,” she whines. She’s a shaking mess, unable to do much else besides cry out and occasionally moan his name. Her spine curves, back arching and her head falls against his shoulder. “Fuck! Ethan, please.”

“Please, what?”

Despite his teasing, Naomi can tell he’s just as desperate as she is. His breath is coming out in ragged and uneven pants, there’s a thin layer of sweat, slick and coating his chest, and she can feel his heartbeat, wild and erratic against her back. He’s just as tortured as she is.

In a Hail Mary attempt to get what she wants, her inner muscles clench down on him, stopping him mid-thrust. Ethan’s knees buckle, the move unexpected and throwing him off-kilter.

“Shit, Naomi,” he manages to rasp out. “You don’t play fair.”

Being fair has no place in this, she plays to win, but she has no time to throw it back in his face as he presses into her clit with the pad of his thumb, applying just enough pressure to make her yelp.

If her last climax felt like getting slammed with a tidal wave, this one feels like floating down a river: languid and unrelenting, refusing to stop. It consumes her entire body, engulfing her in pleasure so white hot and intense, she’s sure stars are popping behind her eyelids as every bit of pleasure is wrung out of her body until there’s nothing left to give.

Ethan’s thrusts speed up again, messy and spasmodic, all rhythm gone. His hips snap against hers before she feels him coming, his entire body going rigid.

Thankfully, Ethan has enough energy left to pull them into a chair because Naomi was more than willing to simply collapse onto the concrete and stay there. She curls into his side, her face finding a spot in the crook of his neck.

They don’t speak for what feels like forever, both just trying to regulate their breathing and return back to normal.

Ethan breaks the comfortable silence, but Naomi barely realizes he’s talking before it’s too late to fully listen. She tilts her head back so they can lock eyes. “What?”

“I asked if you’re okay,” Ethan says.

“I can’t feel my legs,” is all Naomi manages to say. Ethan chuckles and reaches forward, slipping Naomi’s heels off, the relief pretty much instant.

“Better?”

“Much.” She sighs sleepily, her eyelids growing heavy. She burrows deeper into his side, Ethan’s body heat lulling her to sleep. “This was much better than staying in the girls’ room.”

“And it was much better than going to a strip club with your friends,” Ethan adds.

“You like them. They’re your friends too, don’t deny it.” Ethan doesn’t outright confirm or deny anything, which is all the confirmation Naomi needs. “Told you so.”

“How about a shower, Miss Know-It-All?” 

“Sounds great,” Naomi huffs, but she makes no effort to move.

“This is doing more for my ego than you’ll ever know.” Ethan is careful, extracting himself from Naomi’s grip in order to get up. He then hooks his arms underneath her, lifting her up bridal style to carry her back into their suite.

Naomi might as well be unconscious because she’s dead weight in his arms as he maneuvers his way to the en-suite. Thankfully the shower isn’t complicated and all Ethan has to do is turn a few knobs for it to turn on. He waits a few seconds to make sure the water is the perfect temperature, before pulling Naomi in with him.

They don’t spend too much time in the marble and glass box, as Ethan can see Naomi is probably seconds from passing out. The shower is over almost as quickly as it began. Both wrapped in large hotel robes, Ethan nudges Naomi back to the bedroom where she collapses face down onto their bed.

Once Ethan is in bed with her, Naomi rolls over, her face firmly planted on his chest. Upon making contact, Naomi sighs.

Ethan kisses the top of her head. “I can practically hear your thoughts. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” Naomi assures him. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“It just feels...surreal, being back in Miami, being back in this room,” Naomi explains. “We’re getting married next weekend.”

Ethan lifts Naomi’s left hand, her engagement ring sparkling in the moonlight. “It does feel surreal.”

“I think we should make it a tradition, coming out here.” Ethan looks down at her, a curious eyebrow raised. Naomi feels the need to explain herself, the words rushing out of her mouth. “It doesn’t have to be annual or anything, but I want this to be our special place.”

“I think it’s a great idea,” Ethan says. The next they come to Miami, she’s going to be his wife, and the thought spends a thrill down his spine.

“And we have to have sex on the balcony. It’s tradition now.”

“I’m starting to think you only want me for my body.”

“Of course not,” Naomi argues. “I’m in it for your money, too.” Ethan pinches her leg for the teasing, and she squirms away from him, laughing.

“When I die, I’m bequeathing all of my money to Jenner.”

“He’s a good boy, he’d share with me.” 

Ethan rolls his eyes and pulls Naomi in for another kiss. They don’t make it very far though, as the sound of a cell phone pierces through the air, making them spring apart.

“Yours or mine?” Ethan asks, eyes scanning the room for the source of the noise.

Naomi bends over and sees her cell phone on the floor by their bed, and not on the nightstand. 

Weird. She picks it up, and her eyes widen at the amount of texts she’s received in the past minute, the vibration so strong, it knocked the phone off of the table. “It’s mine.”

Bryce L: DUDE!!!

Bryce L: Where the duck r u?

Bryce L: ????????????????????????????????

Bryce L: Srsly not funny, did u run away from ur own bachelor party?

Bryce L: Pick up fone. Nay will murder us for losing u. 

Bryce L: But I will murder fist, 4 running away

Bryce L: Oh shut. Naomi, ignore this!!! 

Bryce L: JK, false alarm

Bryce L: Ethan is fine, picky promise!

Between the misspelled words and strings of emojis, Naomi can tell that her surgeon friend is completely drunk, but she manages to figure out what he’s saying. “So Bryce is having a meltdown because he lost you.” Taking the phone from Naomi’s hand, Ethan holds it up to his face, squinting as he reads. “And he thinks he was texting you, when he really just texted me.”

Ethan chuckles slightly, and mere seconds later, his own cell phone rings ‘Dr. Bryce Lahela’ flashing across the screen. “He’s figured it out, and he’s calling me now. Should I answer?”

“No. Let them have their Hangover moment.”

“Their what?”

“From The Hangover. The movie with Bradley Cooper, Ed Helms, Zack Galifiniakis where they get totally shitfaced and lose their best friend a day before his wedding,” Naomi explains. Ethan just stares at her blankly. “Oh my gosh, you’ve never seen it?”

“How does this come as a shock to you, Rookie?”

“Well, we can't get married until you’ve seen the entire trilogy.”

That makes Ethan’s brows fly up. “There’s 3 of those movies that you want me to sit through?”

“God Grandpa, you’re so lame,” Naomi groans and her hand reaches out onto the nightstand, grabbing the remote control. She points to the large flatscreen tv in front of them. “Hopefully we can order movies on this. If not, I brought my laptop so–” Ethan plucks the remote from her hand, and tosses it to the edge of the king sized bed. It lands softly. “Hey!”

“I don’t care about some stupid movie.”

“It’s not stu–” He tugs at the knot holding her robe together until it falls open. “Ethan…”

“You have options, soon to be Missus Ramsey,” Ethan starts. He rolls over until he’s on top of Naomi, his arms bracing either side of her cage, caging her underneath him. “We can watch that movie, or we can pick up where we left off on the balcony. Which choice do you prefer?”

“The movie,” Naomi quips back with a smirk.

She laughs at her own joke and Ethan’s eyes darken mischievously, taking on the challenge. “Just for that, I’m going to guarantee that you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

[oikawa-tuwu]

🍬 Halloween Candy 🍬

Pairing: Gn!Reader x Tendou Satori

Rating: T

Synopsis: Tendou watches you make Halloween candy and thinks about love and the joys Halloween. Post-time skip, established relationship. (1.8k words)

Warnings: One swear, mentions of past bullying, dealing with insecurity things

(A/N: lol remember when I said I was going on hiatus?? Yeah so I was making hard candy last night and was literally slaughtered in the middle of boiling the sugar when I remembered that Tendou is a chocolatier so my lonely, Halloween-loving, and candy making self wrote this self indulgent thing. Enjoy, but its kind of a mess D: )

-

Tendou Satori’s favorite holiday is, without a doubt, Halloween.

There’s nothing quite like the buzz in the air of a brisk October 31st, children in costumes, ready to consume ungodly amounts of sugar, teenagers giggling as they leave a haunted house, only to turn right around with more cash in hand. Even adults get into the festivities, using the holiday as an excuse to drink copious amount of booze.

Its indulgent and its creepy and Tendou loves it with all of his heart.

In the past, if someone were to ask him why he liked Halloween so much, he'd just laugh and say he had a sweet tooth, because really, he didn't know how to articulate the joy that he gets from costumes. He could remember, as a kid, gleefully skipping down the aisles of a shop, flipping through the mass produced costumes on the rack until he found the perfect one.

The ones that came with masks were always a plus, too.

He supposes, looking back on it, Halloween was his favorite holiday because it was the one day where being “creepy” benefited him. It was on-brand, in-season, like the pecan pies that sit neglected in the summer months before being sold out by mid-November. And even if his hair or his gaze or his height was still terrifying, it was easier to hide behind a Batman mask. Perhaps it wasn’t a healthy way of coping, but somewhere along the way, he’d learned. He’d grown, and shifted, and costumes weren’t his favorite part of Halloween anymore.

No. This is his favorite part of Halloween. The build up to the day in question, preparing for the hordes of children coming to his apartment door, and you, standing in his kitchen, holding a candy thermometer.

It had been your idea at first, to make the candy at home and give it to the trick or treaters, rather than just handing out store bought. Of course, getting homemade candy from a stranger is usually a red-flag for parents, but not if said stranger is a somewhat C-list celebrity chocolatier, as you so kindly put it.

And it was true. There was some hesitation at first, but after a moment of putting together his face, the name on his apartment door, and the clearly professional design on the bags, parents were much more willing to accept the treats. Now, it’s a tradition of the apartment complex, and last year, he ran out of candy by 7 PM.

“You need to make more next year,” you had said, with a sort of confident finality that made him laugh. “Don’t you feel bad for the kids who got there just a little late?”

Did he feel bad?

Now that was an interesting question.

The thing was, he had been that kid. He’d gotten the short straw in life and it had been up to him to make something of it, even when others decided to cut the straw even shorter just for fun.

With an amused glint in his eye, he watches as you lean down, narrowing your eyes to read the fine print of instructions on your phone.

The kitchen is a mess, there’s no way around it, and although he’s deemed you proficient enough to be trusted with his equipment based on your past attempts at culinary efforts, he can tell you feel out of your league as you stir the molten sugar. Your cheeks are flushed from the heat and he’s certain there’s a few more hairs sticking out of place than there were ten minutes ago. Still, you square your shoulders and crack your knuckles as you read the temperatures, one oven mitt armored hand bracing the handle of the pot, and he idly thinks that the apron is officially his favorite piece of clothing on you.

Apparently, you didn't hear the door open and close, because your eyes are still trained on the soon-to-be caramel, and you let out a frustrated, "Why won't this sugar caramelize already?"

"It's stubborn like that."

He always expects you to jump at his voice. Somehow, you never do. Instead, your eyes flick up to him where he hovers in the entry-way, the barest of a smile gracing your lips.

"Welcome home," you say, pulling your eyes away from him to peek at the candy thermometer's temperature. "I feel like this sugar has been at 240° for way too long, is that normal?"

Tendou clicks his tongue, daring to venture further into the candy coated mess. "You have to be patient."

"Funny, coming from you," you smirk, but he notices the way the tension in your shoulders relax, and deep down, he knows he doesn't have the fight to even try to feel offended.

Still, he scoffs and leans against the counter next to you and puts the effort into looking offended, one hand fingering through the petals of the dying roses in a vase. "I'll have you know, I'm a very patient person."

You just give him a look. That look, specifically, with the skeptical eyebrow and wry tilt in the corner of your mouth. The look that always managed to see right through him, reaching in and sorting through each and every memory and quirk and thought and yet still managed to say I love you at the end of the night with a genuine smile.

Tendou knows you. He knows you, understands you, memorized the posture of your sleep deprivation, the quick bite of your words when you wait too long to eat dinner, the strange laugh that, to be honest, sounds more like a car backfiring, when a joke catches you particularly off your guard.

But also, on a much deeper level, he didn't understand you at all.

Why had you chosen him? Was it for the same reason you brought those half-dead roses home, saying, with a self-conscious flush, that they looked sad, dying all alone in the shop.

Was he those flowers? Bruised and beat-up and something to take pity on?

"You're too quiet," you muse, and Tendou realizes that he had been too quiet for much too long, the only sounds coming from the boiling sugar and the soft music playing over a speaker in the corner. "What's wrong?"

He doesn't know how to phrase his insecurities out loud like that, doesn't know if he even should, so instead, he asks, "Am I the roses?"

For a moment, you're silent, and he can see the way you're processing his words, toying with them until you figure out whatever metaphor or inside joke he's referencing. "I would say you're more of a lily guy, if that's what you're asking."

His next question is more blunt. "Why do you like me?"

This one surprises you. He can tell from the way you blink, just once, but also the slight curvature of your eyebrows. He wonders how long it's been since this expression was used in reaction to him.

"I don't understand," you say, finally. "Love and attraction are virtually indescribable emotions that poets and writers spend their lives trying to capture. I don't know why, exactly, but I do know that I enjoy being around you. You make me laugh, and my heart feels happy when I see you walk through that door. Isn't that enough?"

It should be, but Tendou has bad impulse control, and he can't stop the next words from falling out.

"But I'm weird."

The word weird sounds trivial. Weird is the word that girls who dye their hair and listen to indie music and post cryptic pictures on Instagram call themselves, not him. Maybe freak would have been a better word.

"And I don't like the sound of my laugh. We've all got insecurities, things that the rest of the world doesn't like about us so they force us to not like it about us. I know my voice is fine and there's nothing particularly ugly or abnormal about it when I giggle, but I can't help from hating it."

"I like your laugh," he says, and by speaking it aloud, he knows it's true, like whispering a spell that only makes him fall more in love.

"Exactly. And I like you. Weird bits and all. Keeps things interesting."

And just like that, it's gone. It shouldn't be this easy, to dismiss his fears like that, just a few confident words and a smile and suddenly years of his childhood and upbringing are null in comparison to you.

The sugar boils.

As he watches, you leave the almost-caramel on the stove to search for the pan to put it in to cool, already greased and ready for the molten sugar. It's a significantly bigger pan than last year.

When you notice his gaze, you say, "I wasn't joking about making more this year."

Tendou grins.

In high school, Ushijima briefly had a girlfriend. A cheerleader, if Tendou was remembering correctly. He wouldn't be surprised if he wasn't, he didn't pay much attention to her. But, one day, he walked past the gym and found the two of them. Ushijima was teaching her how to serve. Now, Tendou knew Ushijima was a strange person. The only thing he cared about was volleyball and his comically stoic, social ineptitude is what bonded them in the first place, but still, Tendou remembered thinking that bringing your date on your day off to play volleyball was really weird.

But, he supposed, now he understood, as one of your hands reached over to clasp his, the other, still stirring the sugar. He understood before that want, no, the need to share a passion with the one you love.

He squeezes your hand. Absent-mindedly, you squeeze back. And then he squeezes back and you squeeze back and back and forth and back and forth, until you realize the temperature hit the blessed 340° and now you're swearing like it's a prayer, oven mitt hand clasping the pot handle and pouring and hoping it didn't actually burn and-

-

The candies last until 8 PM this year.

He watches you hand the last one over to a kid dressed like some vaguely tropey children's superhero, watches that soft smile slowly warning whatever chill leeches in from the open door.

A wave and a nod to the child's mother later, you slowly shut the door, grin lingering still moments later. You turn to him, that determined gleam in your eye, and say, "We're making more next year."

Tendou laughs. "Fuck no."

But then you smile again, and he knows he can't say no, and, internally, he's already working on a timeline to get all the candy ready by the 31st.

And for some reason, the only thing he can think of is the we in your statement, and it cuts right into his heart faster than a knife as you pull him close and the words just seem to slip out faster than a well-greased cake pan.

-

"I love you."

-

"I love you too."

-

(A/N: Happy Halloween, nerds. Nowwww back to hiatus)

[k7l4d4]

Midnight Striga: Fairy Tail/Owl House Cross Fic Episode 5 Part 1

Hello all, I come before you with another chapter of Midnight Striga. Just to let you know, this chapter will mark a shift in the tone of the story. While this shift will not apply to every chapter, and certainly not every scene, things will now move a bit differently. Thank you.

With a sigh, Amity Blight, scion and heir-apparent to Blight Industries, tied back her hair into its usual short tail. And at that, she had officially completed her preparations for today, the day of the Covention. There, she would be presented by her Tutor, Emperor’s Coven Head Lilith, as a standard of excellence. While normally Amity didn’t particularly care to be used as a living advertisement, for a position as prestigious as the Emperor’s Coven, it honestly brought a small smile to her face, a sign that her skills were being acknowledged. Nothing like her mother’s annoying “Private Sales” she had to put up with.

A ding caught her attention. Turning to her scroll, she read off the new message.

Hope it goz great!! Gonna be watching, you rule!!! ~Skara

Amity allowed a soft smile to cross her face. She was surprised, pleasantly so, how much hers and Skara’s relationship had grown. A girl she had originally written off as a mean-spirited bully actually had a lot of depth to her; sure, she was catty, she could be bratty, and was an absolute gossip machine, but she was bright, funny, and always willing to help her. If Amity knew of a way to head back in time, she’d probably try and talk herself out of pushing away Skara. She frowned. Maybe if she had been a better friend to Skara, or at least tried to be a friend at all, Skara wouldn’t be so broken up over Boscha.

Amity scowled at the thought of the three-eyed Witch. She had never had a high opinion of the other girl, she honestly had a high enough opinion about herself for the entire city, but that day, any respect she may have harbored for her died in flames. She snorted at the thought, remembering those strange flames Boscha had been throwing around that day. She had heard the story from Skara, that Boscha wasn’t in her right mind; frankly, Amity didn’t care. Boscha had always been a certain level of difficult, but Skara owed the girl nothing, and still defended even her worst actions.

Boscha was lucky she had been avoiding everyone for the last few days; otherwise, Amity would’ve personally informed her of her… displeasure. Still, today was an important day for her future, no reason to ruin her mood thinking about painful things. Yet, Amity couldn’t help but have her mind wander back to that day; she had humiliated herself, acted rashly, and most likely ostracized herself even further from Willow, and she offended someone she had never even met before because she couldn’t control herself.

Amity’s eyes narrowed. That human girl was an oddity; her kind were not from the Demon Realm, so how did she get here? How did she stop Boscha’s rampage? Amity needed to know. The next time they met, while she would certainly apologize for her conduct, she wasn’t walking away without a guarantee to get answers.

Chomping down on her lighter’s flame, and wasn’t that still a weird thought, Boscha languidly ambled along, having gotten up and ready early so she wouldn’t have to interact with her parents. The Covention was today, one of the biggest events of the year, especially for Hexside Students. Boscha scoffed. She had never really gotten what the big deal was; before, her future was set on the image of being a professional Grudgby player, so the whole Coven thing was an annoying distraction at best. Even now, when she felt lost inside, she didn’t get the full appeal.

Although… she would admit to being rattled from her confrontation in the rain. A shudder crawled up her spine as she recalled the Owl Beast, it’s Witch-like face twisted into an animal’s leer. If something like that came to those who defied the Coven System, not that she necessarily believed it, then she would try to toe the line a bit, at least in public. But, when she recalled that fight, the way her blood pumped, her heart raced, the heady scent of fire filling her nose, she couldn’t fight the feral smile that crawled across her face.

Boscha wanted to fight again. It was something she just knew she had to do. Just thinking about it, the threat of violence and the clashing of strength and skill, made her feel so alive!! But… the screaming would come back if she fought for real, she knew it. She could even hear it now, the screaming, the accusations. Boscha slapped herself, forcing her mind away from the thoughts that were coming.

Still, it was a new day, something she should make the most of. She should probably check out the Covention today, if only to keep word spreading that she was a no-show. She couldn’t help but feel worried though. Would Willow be there? Would Amity? ...Would Skara? Biting her lip, Boscha trudged along, lost in her thoughts, heedless of the eyes in the shadows tracking her every move.

Eda sighed, bored out of her Titan’s damned mind. Business was slow today, but she couldn’t risk the possibility of missing out on a sail, even if it meant having to put up with Luz and King reading those Titan awful books. Seriously, that flowery language was a disgrace to magic!! But… she couldn’t ruin their fun, not after that night. She had just gotten the house all back together, to Hooty’s relief, and Luz had been making sure she had her potion taken every morning before she did anything else. It was sweet of her, if annoying.

Now if only she had something to get through this stupid BOREDOM!!! She let her mind wander to her newest tenant, one who had been rapidly worming her way into Eda’s jaded heart. She wasn’t sure how, but the kid had managed to eek out a soft spot with her, much to her bemusement; maybe it was the little hints of something not being right, the way she clammed up about her past, the oddly large collection of magic books and texts, or the strange injuries she had that, while healed over, seemed to weigh on her at times. 

The kid had secrets, and had shared barely nothing about them, but Eda wasn’t one to pry. But if those secrets got her hurt, then even if it made Luz hate her, she’d pry them out and do everything she could to keep Luz safe and hearty. ...Titans, she was going soft!! Better prepare a crime to keep herself nice and tough.

Hello, it looked like they’d have a customer after all! If she wasn’t mistaken, it was that one kid, the human fanatic that came around every so often, what was his name… Goops? Whatever.

“Welcome!” She cheered, putting on her most customer friendly voice. Her eyes scanned the two, taking note of the details, specifically the lack of uniforms even though it was a school day. A chill ran up her spine. “What can I interest you two fine Witchlings in today?” Maybe she was hamming it up a little, but she needed something, dang it!

“Um, actually, Miss Owl Lady,” The girl, a stout thing with a friendly look to her, a noticeable amount of fearful respect in her eyes. Normally, Eda would’ve found it amusing, if she didn’t now have a better understanding of WHY Witchlings looked at her like that. She was going to have words with Lily next time they met. “We actually came to see Luz?”

“Yeah! I would normally LOVE to buy one of your treasures,” The Goops kid said with his usual enthusiasm, if not tinged with disappointment. “But we really have some awesome news to share with Luz!!” He certainly rebounded quickly, Eda would give him that.

Eda opened her mouth to reply, only to close it as Luz came walking up, King trotting at her heels. He was doing that weird breathing thing again, something that helped with those crazy spells of his, and wasn’t that a thought! “Hey, Hexsiders!” Luz smirked cheekily as she walked up. “Willow, Gus, what brings you two here? Isn’t it a school day?” She asked.

“Nope, not today!” Willow cheerfully said, Goops nodding along beside her. “The Covention’s today!!” Ugh, that thing!? No wonder the market was abandoned.

“What’s a Covention?” Luz asked, looking confused, and just a bit bored. Eda was never so proud to see a child wilfully dismissive of authority before!!

“It’s when the Covens put on a big expo to show everyone what they can offer!” Gus cheered. He settled down a bit for his next. “We were wondering if you wanted to come with us?”

And there was the moment Eda needed to start intervening! “Oh no!! No tenant of mine is ever going to set foot in that den of conformist propaganda! Coventions are for people who have no ability to question their lot in life and blindly accept whatever crap that authority spoon-feeds them.” She stated firmly. At the affronted looks of the two kids, and Luz’s own flat look of disapproval, Eda huffed, but relented a little. “No offense to you two.” Hey, she wasn’t going to completely back down!

The girl, Willow, Eda thought, shook it off. “Well, maybe coming will help convince you to find a coven to join!” She said trepidatiously, giving a hesitant smile. Now, ordinarily, Eda would’ve used a spell to mess with her for saying that, but after learning what she had about her reputation… she decided to go with a gentler touch.

Eda sighed. “Look kid, there is no possible way I will ever join a Coven. Even if they forced me, I would literally rather die than be in one,” She stated bluntly, steadfastly ignoring the shocked looks her statement provoked. “I don’t know exactly what you kids have been told about me, not fully at least, but there is nothing a coven can offer me that I might want.”

“B-but a Coven gives you a place to belong!” Goops exclaimed.

“Already got one, it’s called my house.” Eda replied, checking her nails.

“It helps you make friends!” Willow followed up.

“I can do that without a Coven, and the kind of people who would be friends with me wouldn’t care if I was in one or not.” Eda said, summoning a file.

““B-But, But!”” The kids stammered.

“Look.” Eda snapped lightly, trying to hold in her temper. “I don’t need to be in a Coven. I am happier without one, and I always will be happier without one. I’m not gonna force my beliefs onto others, however much I might want to sometimes, so the least you two could do is respect mine, okay?” She finished softly. The two meekly nodded.

“I think we should go.” Luz offhandedly mentioned, piping up for the first time since the back and forth started.

“””What!?””” The three shouted, Willow and Gus in glee, Eda in shock.

“Yeah, we’ve got nothing better to do,” Luz shrugged, gesturing to the abandoned market around them, before continuing, “And it gives me an opportunity to check out more of the Isles. And Eda, are you seriously gonna pass up the chance to shake down a bunch of Coven Stands for everything you can get?” She grinned, arching an eyebrow in challenge.

“Using my pride against me, eh?” Eda mused, before snapping her fingers. “Ah nuts, you sold me. But,” she drawled, shooting a look at the two Witchlings, “Absolutely no talk of convincing me to join a Coven, got it?” She said gravely, getting rapid nods from the two. Eh, Eda was willing to milk her worse-than-realized rep for as long as she could.

As the group set off, they were utterly ignorant of the rustling in the trees behind them.

A bloody scream ripped through the Guard’s throat. Why was this happening!? He was just doing his job!! Did these psychos not realize who they were challenging going after a guard like this??

“Quiet.” A gravelly voice, like stone shattering and scraping against steel, drawled from the dark, twisting the knife stabbed into the guard’s ribs. He screamed again, only to be cut off by a hard slap against his mask, so strong he felt his jaw loosen. “We don’t want to hear a peep from you unless it is to answer our questions.”

“DO YOU NOT REALIZE WHAT YOU’RE DOING!?” The Guard demanded, fighting through the pain. “I am a member of the Emperor’s Coven!! If my body turns up with obvious signs of torture like this, the Coven will rip you to shreds for trying to challenge them!!” There… maybe that would get them to comprehend their position!!!

The shadowed group paused, as if in contemplation of his words. Then, one of them snickered, then another, and another. And the entire crowd, a veritable army really, started laughing to the heavens, as if what he had said was the funniest joke in the world, fit only for the Titan’s ears.

“Gilihihihihihi!!” An oily, sickly voice laughed from the shadows. “As if any of these backwater weaklings could challenge us?” A note of hysterical madness crept into the stretched out figure’s voice, when suddenly, his long thin arms darted forward. For a moment, the guard didn’t realize what had happened, until a familiar wetness dripped down his palm. He screamed. Giggling, the figure stretched his hand out of the shadows; resting in his palm, were four of the guard’s severed fingers, ripped directly off his hand. The figure lightly tossed the digits up and down… and threw them back down his gullet, a sick laugh ripping out of his throat after he finished swallowing and chewing the bits.

“Now, now, we need him alive to answer our questions, gentlemen.” Another voice peaked out of the dark, this one smooth, polite, and as cold as the coldest nights on the Knee. “We wouldn’t want him to feel stubborn enough to deny us, now would we?” The cold voice chided, getting solemn nods from the other two figures nearest to the guard, almost like children being scolded by their parent. “Now, my good man, we’ve been at this for hours! You’ve resisted our attempts at bribery, even spat into the faces of my soldiers. Why, we even had to remove that left eye of yours to make you realize we weren’t bluffing!” He proclaimed, holding up the eye in question, the guard’s own familiar tawny coloring staring back at him. The figure bent down, smirking. “Now, just tell us what we wish to know, and your suffering will come to an end, okay? Otherwise…” he sighed, gesturing to the chuckling figures behind him, many hoisting up cruel instruments, such as hooks and skinning knives, all aimed towards him. “We’ll have to use you as a message for the next guard.” He finished ominously.

“N-next!?” The guard whimpered, finally realizing they were willing to kill him, to torture him to death for what they wanted to know. And just like that, all the wind left his sails, his resistance crumbled. “I’ll tell you.” He whispered. “Anything I know. Ask away. If I know, I will tell you.”

“Good.” The figure smirked. As he rapidly rattled off his questions, gesturing to his cohorts to record the guard’s answers, his smirk grew more and more as the guard answered in detail. About the Covention. About the special guest. About all the people who came to see it. About what it meant for the Emperor’s Coven. “Thank you, my good man.” He sincerely stated. Then, without preamble, he slashed his dagger across the guard’s throat, relishing the shocked horror and betrayal as the life fled his eyes as his blood poured down his front. He could even divine the question. Why? “I said your suffering would end.” He whispered to the soon-to-be-corpse. “I never said you would live.” And with that, a look of utter despair coated the foolish guard’s eyes… and they turned lifeless.

Tossing his knife to the figure who had eaten the guards fingers, ignoring the sound of the blood being licked off the blade, he calmly ordered his men to move, the large group mobilizing around him. As they exited the dilapidated castle they had appropriated from the recent demise of that rotten Octopus, he grinned in satisfaction as strategically placed flames went off, consuming the structure, and any trace he and his organization were ever there. ‘We shall devour this world.’ He thought, chuckling darkly. ‘And not even their precious Titan and Emperor will be able to stand against us.’

[korkisobsessions]

The Oath

XX. Fire

Nilah tried to wipe away salt from her eyes. But her face was still hot and wet and throat tight.

She heard voices of the villagers. Cheerful laughter and kids screaming and singing.

There was huge bonfire in the middle of the clearing. People sitting around on the logs, talking and eating food from big table that stood aside.

“Nilah! You came!” Miho and his pack run to her with colourful faces. They had flower wreaths they made with her that day, and their eyes sparkle in the light of the flames.

“you must eat this!” “And drink this!” they were shouting one over another “my mum baked this!” she was suddenly overwhelmed by their joy; she almost forgot her pain. “Where is Yeong shin? Will he come?”

Her smile froze on her lips. She really doesn’t know what to say.

“I... think...” She stuttered.

“Kids! Leave her alone for a one night. She deserves grown company for a while.” It was that older lady who met them, when they came to village for the first time. Whose son Yeong shin saved when plague broke. Plague he helped spread. She bites her tongue and blink away tears.

“How are you Nilah?” woman touch her forearm with concern.

“I’m good, thank you madam Bon-Hwa.” She bows her head. She had respect for older woman that helped them even though they were strangers.

“You cried, am I right?” older woman gave her cup with rice wine and wink “this will help.”

“Thank you. It’s, just...” what kind of words she should used? Nothing? How could it be!

“Leave it my dear. I don’t want to questioning you. Tonight, we should celebrate, sing and laugh. Let me paint your face.”

Bon-Hwa leads her to nearest log and kids brings colours. Some of them was like powder and some was thick. When older woman wet her fingertips in red colours and touch her face, Nilah felt chill running down her spine. She felt cold sweat on her palms and faster heartbeat.

“Why are you doing this?” she swallows hardly and try to calm down. She remembers painting faces from her homeland and every time she had colours on her skin, someone died. People in her land painted their faces when they were leaving to battle, to scared the enemies or when they sacrifice someone, to be closer to gods.

Nilah always hated it.

“It’s just for luck.” Bon-Hwa smiled calmly. “I draw symbols of luck on your temple. This is wisdom...and courage...” she wet her index finger in white colour and marked her forehead. “and protection.”

It feels like the chill turned into warmth. Her lips spread in a smile.

“You are very good girl Nilah.”

Something motherly sparkle in older woman’s eyes and she hug Nilah. “and now, drink!”

And Nilah drinks. And eat, but everything had sour aftertaste. It would be perfect night if there wasn’t terrible truth she knows. And the hardest part was that she missed Yeong shin. She wanted to be with him.

She finished her cup when people start to smile and turning to her. Like they were expecting something.

She was confused, but Bon-hwa patted her shoulder. “it’s your turn.”

“In what?”

“To perform something. Sing, dance, tell a story.”

Maybe it was because of wine or because it was the first time when her neighbours were smiling at her. It wasn’t usual. Or maybe it was that symbol for courage that Bon-hwa draw on her face.

She stood up and took a deep breath. There were a couple of men with string instruments and one of them looked almost like lyre she used to play. Musician gladly burrow it to her.

Nilah stood close to the fire and all eyes were on her.

“I must confess, I don’t know much songs from this land in your language. I will sing a song from the place I was born. It’s about sea and... endless love.”

From her spot it looks like the faces of villagers glow. Flames shine and she starts playing and singing.

Between the here, between the now

Between the North, between the South

Between the West, between the East

Between the time, between the place

 From the shell

The song of the sea

Neither quite nor calm

Searching for love again

 Mo ghrá

In the crowd she saw Yeongshin, watching her with sad face. He was standing behind, far from others, but he was there, hidden in shadows. She swallowed hard lump when she realised that no matter what he did...it was her Yeong shin. Man, who always protects others first. Man, who run to his last breath to save others.

What he did was wrong. But she knows him. He was just trying to save everyone, and it doesn’t matter if it cost him his soul.

Nilah finished her song and made her way through the crowd to him. He was standing there with head hung low like beat dog.

“Yeong shin...” she touches his face and can’t find right words. But then it slips through her lips so naturally that she can’t stop it. “...mo ghrá”

He raised his eyes to her with surprise. He probably wasn’t expecting kind words even though he can’t understand what that means. Her gentle face, glowing eyes and warm smile gave him feeling that it’s a good thing.

“My love.” she whispered again and this time he understands. Her lips found his with need. His arms sneaked around her waist and held her tight.

“I’m sorry Nilah, I should...” he whispered with urge. “Please stay. I always thought that I have only purpose. To be hunter and killer. But you give me hope that I can have more. You make me feel things I didn’t think were possible for me.” All around them was just like blur that doesn’t matter. All he cares about was his woman in his arms.

His warm embrace, sparkling eyes and hot lips were all she was focused. Until someone scream.

“Fire!” it was like hard blown into chest. “There is fire! Bring water! Quickly!”

Sky was suddenly illuminated by high flames. One of the houses was on fire and house right next to it starts to smoke.

Smoke and scream were everywhere. People were running around with buckets of water, shouting at each other looking for their families and friends.

“it’s Jae-Bong’s house!” Yeongshin was pulling her closer to house that were slowly eating by flames. Doors were wide open and two men were dragging Jae-Bong outside. Village leader was coughing and crying in pain. Nilah and Yeong shin run to them and help them lay big man to grass. Nilah’s stomach drops when she saw his leg. His ankle was in weird shape and skin was burned with nasty blisters.

“One of the burning beams fell right on him!”

Nilah kneeled to Jae-Bong, holding his hand and tried to calm him, but he was still out of his mind, crying and trying to get back to the house.

Then everything happens in blink of an eye.

She understands what was Jae-Bong whining. Her head spun and cold run down her spine when she heard it.

It was cry.

But not Jae-Bong’s.

It was Miho inside the burning house.

And Yeong shin heard him sooner. She didn’t have time to grab his hand.

“YEONG SHIN!”  all she could do was just scream, when her beloved man run and disappear in the smoke and flames. Her heart stops beating in fear.

She leaves crying Jae Bong and grabs nearest bucket and starts to carrying water. She can’t even get close enough to toss water in the flames because of the high heat.

She desperately cries when she can’t see any movement in the house. Just cruel dance of flames and swirling of smoke.

“My son! Miho!” Jae Bong’s cry was filling her ears and hard lump was forming in her throat. It can’t be like this. Yeongshin will survive this. He can’t leave her here. But he was nowhere to be seen and house was completely in flames.

“Yeong shin! Please! “she cried desperately and trying to see through the flames.

And suddenly, out of the fire jumped silhouette with little boy tangled in blanket. He was holding him tightly pressed to his chest and struggling to make another step.

Nilah run to him when someone took crying Miho from his arms. She panicked when Yeongshin collapsed into her arms with tired sign. She never saw him so devastated.

“I got you. Its all right!” his skin was so hot it was almost painful to touch him. Few spots on his shirt were smoking and burning. She quickly jerked it from his body to not to burn through and hurt his skin. His chest and backs were dirty of ash with angrily red spots where flames bite his flesh.

They both collapsed on their knees. Yeong shin pressed his face to her chest when she was trying to find someone with water. In the meantime, she wrapped his beat torso into her plaid.

“Miho?” he croaks with raspy voice.

“He is safe. He is with Jae Bong. You saved him.” Nilah saw little boy in arms of his father, crying loudly. He was probably little burned and scared, but alive. Only thanks to Yeong shin.

“Nilah...” his voice was weak and painful. His shaking palms squeeze her upper arms with urge. “...my eyes...I can’t see.”

Shock hit her body like a wave. She carefully touches his face and lift his chin. His face was lightly red but his eyes were glossy and swollen.

“Oh gods, no!” she was scared to touch him, not to hurt him. He was suddenly so vulnerable. “Let’s get you home.”

There was no one to help her. Everyone was trying to stops the fire and it was obvious that villagers were wining against the flames.

“Hold on.” She knew that it will be hard, but she needs to get him home. She helped him stood up and than turned her back on him and with clenched teeth lifted him on her back.

“No... Nilah, I can walk on my own.” He tried to protest, but his voice was terribly weak.

Her muscles were burning and shaking, but each step bring them closer to home.

“It will be good. You will rest and everything will be fine.” She tried to calm him. To calm herself, but her eyes were watering even though she was trying to be strong.

Yeong shin can’t be blind. That word makes her sick. His sharp eyes were his greatest power. No matter what happened, good or bad; she always remembered his look, how his eyes focused on target when he was trying to shoot Cho Hak Joo.

She remembered his eyes when he found her in Hanyang, tired and broken, how carefully he was examined her and how surprised his eyes were, when met hers.

She cannot lose his tender look he was watching her every morning. Eyes that were watching over her.

His head was resting on her shoulder when she made her way over the hill. It was low hill, but she felt rivulets of sweat running down her face. Yeong shin was heavy and when he lost consciousness his body became heavier.

“I will take care of you, just stay with me, please!”

His only response was slight movement of his thumb that caressed exposed skin on her arm. His breaths were shallow but it was sign that he is still with her.

Their house was absolute opposite of the village. It was quiet, dark and calm, and it was absolute opposite of Nilah’s feelings. She was desperate, scared and exhausted.

Yeong shin wasn’t huge man. He was just a little taler than Nilah, but still, after almost mile of dragging his barely consciousness body, she was on the edge of her powers.

Her sweat was mixed with tears when she put him down on their sleeping mattress. Just painful moan leaves his lips.

“We are home.” She tried to calm him and touch his forehead. His skin was burning with fewer.

All she could do was cool down his body. Quickly she brings bucket of fresh water and soaked towels and put them on his forehead and ankles. She wet clean cloth and carefully touch his dried lips to get at least some water into his body.

“Yeong shin. Please wake up.” Nilah cried holding his hand in her palms. His arm was so heavy and lifeless it scared her to the bone. She kissed his knuckles and lean her forehead on back of his hand. “I can’t be without you. You are my everything.”

And after long time she prayed. She prayed to her old gods and made a promise. She was willing to sacrifice everything just to save him.

Again, and again, she was changing cold towels and wet his lips until sun woke up and lit up the room with soft light.

Nilah’s look didn’t leave his face, until she falls asleep curled to his side.

It was short restless sleep full of nightmares. She woke up with fresh tears in her eyes and heavy heart.

“Nilah?” his voice was weak, tired and hoarse.

“Gods! Yeong shin. I’m here, you are safe.” She sobs and held his raised palm. “ How do you feel? Are you hot, or cold?”

“Sick.” He whispered and touch his face with his free hand. “My head...ache.”

“I know. You were in great heat.” She put fresh cloth on his forehead. Sigh of relief leaves his lips.

“Yes, I remember.” His fingertips examined skin around his eyes. They were still swollen and red. “I guess it’s not deep night.”

Fresh tears leave Nilah’s eyes and she bite her lip not to sob out loud. His eyes...

“You still can’t see? Anything?”

Yeong shin raised his hand at touch her cheek.

“I’m holding your face, I feel it. Your warm skin. I feel your tears on my fingertips. But all I can see is darkness.” His voice was rough probably from the smoke he inhaled inside the burning house.

“Are you in pain?” her voice broke and she lower her face with cry.

“Nilah...” he was gentle when his hands found her and pulled her to his chest. “I’m not. Just...maybe little. But I will live.”

She cried to his chest, heartbroken. Her brave chakho.

Quiet knock on the door interrupted their painful moment. Nilah cautiously open the door to find Bon-Hwa with her son. They both looked tired and sad. Dark circles under glossy eyes. They probably weren’t sleeping whole night.

“Good morning Nilah.” They both tried to smile but it was weak. “we brought soup and some treatments.”

Nilah heard their voices like from distance. She leans on the wall and closed her eyes, just for a moment. Her face was tingling and she can feel her fingers cold and legs light. Her body was too exhausted to stay awake.

“Catch her!”  she heard Bon-Hwa’s voice when dark surrounded her for a short moment. Her legs betrayed her and she was falling until young boy caught her under her arm. He helped her to sit on the porch and Bon-Hwa pressed flask with alcohol to her lips.

“Come on child. We must be strong for others.”

Strong spirit almost burned her throat but it helps. She coughs and felt heat flew through her body.

“How is Yeong shin?” Bon-Hwa sat next to her with worried face. Her son was unpacking bowls with food.

“I don’t know...” her voice was weak and tears sting in her eyes.

“Jae Bong and Miho are safe. Their house is burned to the ground, but they are safe. Thanks to Yeong shin.”

“His eyes...” Nilah sobbed and Bon-Hwa quickly hugged her. “He is blind.”

Older woman bites her lip and her eyes saddened. “Eyes are mysterious thing. Give it time. There is tea for pain and some aloe ointment for burns. Lot of people were hurt. We were visiting houses and bring food and medicines. That’s all I can do.”

“Where will Jae-Bong live?” she wiped her tears away and swallow hard lump in her throat.

One fire. How quickly it spread and how much pain and misery it makes.

“They will stay with us. Jae-Bong is my cousin. I must take care of my family. Yeong shin saved Miho’s life. If there is anything, I can do...”

“You are very kind. Thank you for food and medicine.”

Nilah found Yeong shin curled on his side with arms around his chest and deeply asleep. She at least covers his wounds with healing ointment. His breathing was calm and steady, but his eyebrows furrowed with pain.

Bon-hwa’s tea smelled awfully but Yeong shin drink it with almost one gulp and fall asleep again.

Later she made him eat a little bit of soup. It was strong chicken broth. It smells delicious and tastes even better.

“All of it tastes like ash.” Yeong shin grunted and put down the bowl carefully, but still spilling it.

“It will get better.” She wiped spilled soup. “In Hanyang, when I was burned, I smelled fire almost whole week.”

Yeong shin nods. Sun illuminates his face for a moment and he immediately jerked away with painful face.

“Does it hurt?”  She can’t stand his eyes painfully shut. It was tearing her heart. He was still desperately looking for her and all he could find was darkness. “You want me to cover your eyes? It could help. Let them rest for a while.”

Nilah found her best scarf that he bought for her in village. It was made from soft silk. She wants something not to hurt his face that was still little sensitive.

“I’m here.” She whispered and at first touch his shoulder, to let him know where she is.

Gently she covered his eyes with dark blue scarf and tied it on the back of his head. He touches his face and shift the scarf a little. His fingers were lightly trembling when he was examined the position of scarf.

“Is it comfortable? If you want to lose...” he just nods. His lips in tight line. “Yeong shin?”  her voice broke when she noticed his trembling chin.

He was crying.

He lifted his hand and she immediately caught him, pulling his head to her chest. He grips her upper arms like anchor and cried.

“I don’t want to be in darkness. I can’t stand it.”

Her heart ache and fresh tears wet her face. Nilah hated how helpless she suddenly felt. It was worse than be locked up in prison. It was worse than Sang-Ho pushing her down to the ground, violating her body. See Yeong shin suffer was the worst thing in her life.

See him suffer and can’t do anything.

“I’m blind for a day and I already miss your face.”

“please don’t...” she choked, biting her lip not to sob loudly. “I’m still here, still same. Still yours.”

[ihatetaxes99]

THE YAKUZA AND THE PHOENIX - A BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA FANFICTION

"See, the problem with people like you," Commented the cool, sanitised yet utterly terrifying voice of Kai Chisaki as he kneeled down just in the very corner of the hero's peripheral vision. "Is that you relied far too much on that disgusting disease that plagues every last vein in your Godforsaken body. Maybe if you had just thought ahead a little… Has this illness robbed you of your senses, too? Left you as useless as a newborn? Not that it matters. It's far too late by now for any part of you to begin thinking about what could have been. I mean, just take a look around." He raised one hand to adjust his mask, while using the other to gesture to the scene around the two, one filled with flame and destruction. "If you had thought to bring police, tried to corner me with rifles, well you might have had some sort of success. I'm not stupid enough to resist against live bullets. But no. Your sickening Quirk has left you with such delusions that you thought you could stand to take me on alone."

The young woman's eyes filled with nothing but pure steel as she looked up at him. There was no fear to be found in the glare she delivered the man known as Overhaul, in spite of the terror bubbling in the pits of her stomach, constantly threatening to rise to the top. But she would not let it. Not in front of this Chisaki bastard, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing he had won.

"No words?" The man sighed, poking her lightly in the head as if to provoke a reaction. "Like a kid who doesn't get their way. Stubborn to the end. What a pain you are. The worst kinds of people are the ones who don't realize they're infected. They have no true redemption in their future. It's kind of weird when you think about it. What a shame… Not that it's any of my concern. I'm more interested in just why you and your ridiculous headgear have been following me around all day. Do you have an answer for that?" He grabbed her by the back of the hair, and pulled her face up to look at his. "I'd prefer an answer as soon as possible, so I can minimise the amount of contact made with your disgusting body."

There was only one way the woman knew she could respond to this and that way landed directly on the suspected Yakuza's forehead. "Why would I tell you anything, asshole? You won't get anything out of the Phoenix."

The man actually audibly growled, like a feral wolf, as he slammed her head into the asphalt. She felt her nose break as blood streamed from it onto the road. It was probably one of the lesser injuries she had incurred that day. Chisaki got to his feet and produced a spotless handkerchief from his pocket, wiping his face of the hero's saliva. "How childish." His voice was full of pure, deep contempt. "How filthy. Were you never taught manners? Are you mentally deficient? Hmph. Not that I should expect any more from a hero who calls themselves the Phoenix. How cliché." With that, he returned to his kneeling position over her limp body, she practically felt his shadow drop over her as the smell of burning embers filled her nose. Were those sirens she heard? They were faint, but what else could they be? Were they coming in her direction? One ear was completely busted up, so she couldn't tell. Looking up to the man who supposedly went by Overhaul, her peripheral vision severely limited by her complete and total lack of a right eye, she found her mind drifting away to the beginning of the day. When things had seemed oh so simple. When she still had all her limbs and when life had generally been more preferable when contrasted against her current predicament.

When had it all gone so wrong?

---------------------

"So, all I have to do is follow the bugger?" Twenty-three year old Misa Kawajiri enquired into her phone as she took small, meticulous sips from her large Coke, sitting atop a rooftop in the very heart of the city, occasionally reaching into the bag next to her to dig out a fry or two and jam them into her mouth. This was the life, no doubt about it. The young woman, who went by the heroic moniker of the Phoenix, was elated whenever she was sent on surveillance patrols by her agency. Most other pro heroes would consider such work to be beneath them, it mostly consisted of hounding tax evaders, low-rent rank-and-file grunts and conmen, there was almost certainly never a tang of excitement to be found. This was the reason most heroes preferred more interesting work and it was the reason why Kawajiri adored such jobs. For her, it was a chance to slow down, chill out and enjoy life at a bit of a slower pace than usual. She definitely was not above having time to unwind and take things at a more reasonable pace. Of course, today's surveillance was already beginning to sound more interesting. It had started out with monitoring some basement-dwelling Otaku who shared anti-hero sentiments on internet forums, so not exactly a thrill ride there, as evidenced by the fact that Misa had left halfway through to get herself a McDonald's. But her new target, as assigned to her by her employers at the agency…

"His name's Kai Chisaki." Rang the cool, clerical voice of Phoenix's supervisor. "Mid to late twenties, germaphobe. He isn't often seen out and about, instead residing largely in the Shie Hassaikai's compound."

"Hassaiaki?" The hero of the sky's ears perked up at that. "He's Yakuza?"

"As far as we know, yes. We can't trace back any records of a family, except for Kazama Chisaki, his uncle, who was also associated with the organization before his death, although not as a full member."

"Interesting…" The girl pondered. "So, why are we following him, then? The Hassaikai have a good reputation, right?" Her words were slightly muffled as she jammed more fries in her mouth at that moment than was probably reasonable.

"That they do, Phoenix. They're underground. There have been search warrants on the premises before, but nothing suspicious was turned up. They're a Yakuza group in name only right now, nothing worth worrying about. But Chisaki? He's different. You're going to be following him for reasons unrelated to his activity within the clan."

"Oh?" Misa cupped her free ear with her hand so that she could better hear the man on the other end of the phone.

"In short, we have reasons to believe he's been peddling Trigger behind the backs of his bosses. Obviously, I don't need to tell you about that."

She nodded, although that was a tad redundant, considering the voice on the other end could not see her. The experimental drug known for its Quirk-bolstering properties was nothing to trifle with, and it had only grown more popular in recent time. "Why do you think he's doing so?"

"Money, probably. Who knows with these criminal types? The point remains that we have reason to believe he's out and about today. I've sent you an image of him on your phone. Follow him, see what he's up to. When a hermit like him comes out of the woodwork, it can never be good. Not for anybody." And with that, her superior hung up, leaving Misa to her own thoughts. In being left this way, she dug her knees up tucked under her chin and sulked for a bit, confident that nobody could see her act in such a childish manner, taking the odd glance at the image. He was a shockingly handsome young fellow, with sharp yellow eyes, ruffled brown hair and a suit, he looked the part of any well-meaning businessman. The only weird aspect was the steampunk-esque plague doctor mask clamped around his mouth. She shrugged it off as probably having something to do with his Quirk, whatever that was.

"This sucks." She groaned as she reached for her helmet, which mostly served as a fancy shell to hold the visor that shielded her eyes from the wind. "I don't wanna have to pursue Yakuza drug dealers, it's just no good. Give me a fat, tinfoil hat loser ranting about conspiracies any day. Surveillance is supposed to be a break from the hard stuff. But nooo, it just has to be more of it, doesn't it?" She sighed, the air whistling over her lips, as she tossed aside her empty bag. Stretching upwards, allowing her skintight suit to hug her body, she felt her wings extend from her body. It was always a glorious sensation to be felt, the pure rush of it all. She adored it beyond belief, the best part of the job. With a cheeky grin, the young hero spread her arms…

… And let herself fall from the building's roof.

---------------------

Filthy. The very lot of them, surrounded by filth and dirt and all manner of unpleasantries. It was enough to break young Kai Chisaki out in hives, it truly was. Absolutely repulsive. How horrendous to have to walk amongst the common people, all of them no doubt inflicted with that despicable illness. As he made his way down the crowded high street, bumping into the occasional commuter, he felt the irresistible urge to lift up the sleeve of his green coat and scratch at the lumps on his arm. Urgh. The very lot of them, disgusting. He was rapidly remembering why he vastly preferred to remain indoors. And yet, he had to do this. He couldn't entrust mere goons with carrying out the mission, not even the Eight Precepts of Death. This had to be done by him and him alone. He felt the cold metal rub against his stomach from the inside pocket of his coat. What depraved things that guns were. Alas, they were a necessary evil, and still far better than Quirks. As he walked, he had no clue of the eyes following him as he did so. Misa Kawajiri worked fast and had found him in mere minutes. Was he aware of this, he would almost have applauded her.

Key word: Almost.

"He's carrying some sort of briefcase..." The girl noted to herself as she watched him. Luckily, his mask made him very distinctive for anyone who may be looking for him, so she had not had much trouble. "Is that relevant to whatever he's up to?" The questions were racing through her head in spite of her better judgement. She couldn't help but wonder about the good-looking, well-dressed young fellow with Yakuza ties. It was all so odd to her, and new. She didn't often run into anything so… exciting, was probably the word. And normally, Phoenix abhorred exciting. But something about it just seemed alluring. Maybe it was more the man than the danger, who really knew? Certainly not her.

…

DAMN.

Wrapped up in her own little thoughts, Kawajiri had lost Chisaki. He had seeped into the crowd. That wasn't good, not good at all. Not even wasting a second, Misa once again extended her wings and took off into the air, in search of the fellow she was shadowing. Stupid Misa, she cursed herself. How had she been so stupid? She really needed to focus more. Her eyes scanned the surroundings as she flew over an alleyway that served as a gap between two buildings.

And in that very alleyway, Kai Chisaki now stood, facing a triage. They were common street thugs, Overhaul had done his research. Nothing big, they were unheard of, just worthless druggies with not a thing to their names and a whole heap of desperation for power, power that they had no clue what to do with. In other words, the perfect suckers to lure in.

"Gentlemen." The distinguished Yakuza bowed. The goons showed no such respect in return. Was it really so hard to show the baseline politeness required of a person? These kinds of people pissed him off the most. Fortunately, the mask obstructed his grimace as he set the silver case on the ground and entered in a combination. A few seconds passed and then it clicked open. "Here's your bloody Trigger. Ten vials, enough to give the three of you a bolster in your path- In your Quirks for up to forty-eight hours. If you have any questions, I would advise you ask now."

The thugs all shared looks with one another. They appeared satisfied at the very least, yet the one in the middle, a big guy with muscles to rival All Might- Well, the former All Might- seemed incredulous to some degree. 

"So, what yer tellin' us, Chisaki-"

"I would prefer if you called me Overhaul."

"-Right. Sorry." His accent was just thick enough to get under the Yakuza's skin. "Yer sayin' that we don' hafta pay for any of this?"

To this, Kai shrugged. "Consider it a first-time buyer's guarantee. If you want more later down the line, that's when you'll have to start paying me. Otherwise, take it." He kicked the briefcase, sending it sliding towards the men. "It's all yours." For a moment, it seemed like the huge guy was about to protest, but at looking at the vials, his greed got the better of him, and he allowed a wide grin to overcome his face, no doubt imagining what his improved Quirk would be like. Disgusting animal.

"Pleasure doin' business with ya, Mr. Overhaul." He gloated as he picked up the case, his cronies hovering around him as they sneaked looks at the drug. Now was probably the best time to strike, while they were blinded by their own pathetic delusions of grandeur.

"Likewise." Chisaki responded, reaching into his coat, as if trying to find a cigarette. "Say, you three, have you ever wondered what society would be like without Quirks? How far we could have advanced by now if we hadn't had to restart everything to accommodate the idea of superpowers?" The men stared at him like he was mad, which was to be expected. "It's just something I've been thinking about." He admitted as he pulled the gun from his coat and aimed it squarely at the large man's head. "Let's test it out. You'll survive, of course."

"What the fuck?" The scumbag growled as he dropped the case in shock. "You pullin' a gun on us? Guess what, you skinny prick? It's three on one. Shoulda thought about that before pullin' a betrayal!"

"Probably." Kai noted nonchalantly as he took aim and fired.

The bullet ricocheted up against a wall in the alley as the metallic weapon was knocked from his hand by a kick. And not a kick from one of the steroided-up goons. No, one aimed from above.

"Looks like I caught you boys in the act." Phoenix grinned as she stood, legs firmly apart, eying up Kai. "Trying to betray the dudes you're selling drugs to really isn't a great idea, I must add." 

…

Filthy…

Sickening….

"WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE??!!" Kai Chisaki screamed, his voice carrying high up into the sky as he stared down the hero, his pupils small and mad in their sockets. "HOW DARE YOU TOUCH ME??!! HOW FUCKING DARE YOU??!!" He was completely enraged, sweat pouring from his forehead as he grasped at his hair. "DISGUSTING, DISGUSTING, DISGUSTING!!" He appeared to be on the receiving end of a full-on breakdown. All this over being kicked in the hand? No, it couldn't just be that. Already, the receivers of the Trigger had fled, stolen briefcase in hand. It really had been their lucky day.

"Woah, calm down, Chisaki-"

"Who gave you the right to call me that?!" He demanded, his voice slightly softer now. "And do you have any idea how difficult those bullets were to manufacture? I simply cannot afford to waste them!" Turning his back on Kawajiri, he picked up the gun, examining it for damages, and then wiped it clean with his white surgical gloves.

"Hey, creep! Stay right where you are!" Misa was petrified. She truly was. Something about this guy just was not right at all. She had been told he was a major germaphobe, but was it this bad? Enough to push him into insanity at a moment's touch? "You're under arrest for possession distribution of illegal narcotics." She was basically reading off the rulebook, saying what she was supposed to say in such situations. But nothing about this felt normal. Why was he so focused on the gun? "Stand down and await for police transport."

"You think I would heed such commands from a filthy piece of scum like yourself?" Suddenly, Kai was cool, clinical, yet again as he calmly pointed the gun in her direction. Phoenix nearly felt her heart stop. "Maybe you'll make a better test subject." His finger tightened on the trigger of the handgun. Misa had no time to think, no time to plan.

She simply ran forwards, charging the villain as he steadied his aim. Another loud bang echoed from the gun. She felt it tear her suit as it whizzed past her, but she managed to just barely evade it. Now, she was too full of adrenaline to stop, as she ploughed towards Chisaki. As she drew closer, she reached out, grabbing for his arm… She had to restrain him and fast.

"DON'T LAY YOUR FILTH-ENCRUSTED FINGERS ON ME FOR EVEN A SECOND!!" Overhaul yelled, back to unconcealed rage, as he slammed his hand down onto the ground. From nowhere, burst large columns of rock from beneath the concrete, sending the heroine flying back a few inches and separating the two. 

"Woah..." Was this his Quirk? She hadn't seen anything like it before. The rock wall stretched all the way up, totally shielding the Yakuza from her. It twisted up into the blue sky, as far as the eye could see. And then, she heard his voice, once again calm, from the other side.

"You made me use my Quirk." The man stated. "I hate this thing, but you left me with no other option. For that, I truly do feel some sort of hatred for you. So, I suppose I really feel no guilt in using you as my little guinea pig." Then, he fell silent again, as Phoenix paced around, trying to look for some sort of opening in the wall. Suddenly, she heard a rush of wind behind her and snapped around her head just fast enough to see Overhaul rushing at her. Now, Kawajiri had no clue just what his Quirk did yet, but she figured letting him touch her was a bad idea, so she took off into the air, hovering out of his reach.

"So, a flight Quirk, eh?" Chisaki sighed. His hair was ruffled, the purple fur on his coat torn in places and his bleach white tie flicking wildly with the motion from his rapid movements. "I must admit, I've never been great with moving targets." Once again, the pistol was out, pointed at her. No, she shouldn't panic. Judging from earlier, whatever bullets he loaded the thing with were very precious and so, he wouldn't waste them unless he knew there was a guaranteed chance of hitting her. She was safe for now.

She realized she had been foolish to think that even as the spiked column of rock dug itself up from the ground and impaled her right through the stomach, sending her back, right out of the alley and into the streets outside. She heard a scream as she slammed into a car, feeling the metal crunch behind her. Her vision was hazy, like that of a drunk, but she could still make out the suited villain walking slowly towards her as civilians fled the area. Well, all except for one man, who clearly realized that Kai was up to no good and tried to charge him. Without even looking in his direction, his gaze fixed on Misa, Overhaul's arm made contact with the brave man's chest and he exploded into nothingness.

"What the hell?!" Phoenix yelled. She felt like throwing up at the man's remains splattered the asphalt So this Quirk… It could erect pillars of rock, reduce humans to nothing, what was it exactly? She couldn't even think straight in her current state to try to decipher the answer.

"Isn't it kind of weird how people always try to act the hero? I've noticed that. I swear, this world has been poisoned beyond belief. Can I even cure it? Is that possible?" She felt cold metal as the bastard jammed the gun into her gaping mouth. "All I know is that I can try my very best. Starting here. You'll be my first patient, my girl. The first to be cured."

"Bite me." She hissed as she aimed a kick at his side, which somehow connected, winding the Yakuza just long enough for Misa to stagger to her feet. It felt like she had multiple broken ribs. Those could wait. "I think I get your shtick now. You think Quirks are disgusting or something, right? Yeah, just like any of those Creature Rejection Clan nutjobs. But you think you can bring an end to them, right?" She coughed up some blood onto her fist as she held Chisaki's gaze. "Well, think again, dickwad. You really think that you're some great saviour. I dunno what you have planned, but it sure as hell won't be anything that won't see you crushed like the pathetic little man you are!" And with that, she took flight again, aiming a kick at his head.

Before she even knew it, another column had travelled right through her left eye with a fleshy squealtch, blood coating the rock as she hurtled backwards, her fall stopped by a large vehicle that the rock pinned her to.

"Jesus… That it?" She spat, as Kai approached her yet again, his eyebrows raised in amusement. Then, he stepped backwards. Then again. Then, he spun around and started walking away. Misa was completely taken aback. "What?! You just leaving, you limp-dicked bastard? That ain't how a saviour acts, is it? Running away from a fight?" Her attempts at provocation did nothing to stop him and when the young woman tilted her head just a little, she saw why.

"Ah-" She started, before the oil tanker she had been pinned to exploded. The shockwave could be felt for blocks to come, glass shattered from the skyscrapers above as the world was thrown upside down. Everything went white for Misa Kawajiri, then black.

---------------------

Damn. That really had escalated quickly. And now, the pro hero lay, amongst the rubble, with one eye, a busted ear, no legs and a stump of an arm. The Yakuza stood above her. 

"I'll be willing to overlook your blatant lack of manners." Overhaul growled as he resumed his kneeling position. "In fact, I'll let you be saved. I'll be the one to save you. Isn't that something? A sickening power-infected freak like you, given a second chance by a humble Yakuza. And after everything you've done to me. You have been one hell of an annoyance. But, I guess you'll have started to make it up to me if Eri's little bullets end up working." The girl felt metal press into her side. Why was he so eager to shoot her? It must have something to do with whatever he was planning. The last thing Misa Kawajiri heard was the crack of a gunshot, the last thing she felt was the pain of the bullet entering her body, and then, she fell still. A second or two passed before Kai hovered his hand over her head.

"All going well, you have been deprived of your filthy Quirk." He noted, more to himself as the hero was now deeply unconscious. "Now, just to fix you up." He pushed his hand down on her and the woman's body blew apart in a spectacular show of blood and gore. Just a few seconds later, it reassembled, all limbs, eyes and anything else re-attached. With a satisfied nod, the man got to his feet.

"You'll live peacefully for the rest of your days." He told her, turning his back on her and walking away from the destruction that lay sprawled out like the play area of a particularly deranged and angry child, as if it had just been another day at the office, adjusting his tie. "No Quirk, no heroics, no excitement. I hope you're cut out for a desk job, Phoenix. It's all you have in your future. You're welcome."

[piprocrastinator]

Pumpkin Spice Feelings and Apple Cider Kisses

MewGulf

Fluff piece. could be considered a proposal piece. Pumpkin patch and carving pumpkins. Fluff. Cute stuff. Fall fic.

Length: 5740

This wasn’t their year-long honeymoon, not even close. This was just a short (two-week-long) vacation - and they weren’t even engaged yet. Not for lack of want though for either party. Mostly for lack of Mews part. He was trying. And Gulf was patient, as ever. The sweet sweet boy.

But it was a vacation and they were together so the rest could be figured out later. Mew wondered if he would finally cave and propose during their vacation or keep pushing it off because (among a few other things), ‘ it wasn’t perfec t.’ Hating his perfectionist side when it came to certain things like work and Gulf. Sometimes there would be a moment that he would think ' yeah this could be it ' but then not do it because ' what if there was a better moment late r'? A more perfect moment.

Maybe it would be in the thicket of trees, surrounded by oranges, yellows, and browns. All bundled up because winters in Thailand were not nearly as cold as they were here in the states. Maybe he could find a perfect moment here?

When Tul had mentioned friends in the states who had a rental cabin, it hasn’t taken long for Mew to book them a trip out. He planned everything (anal as he was about everything going according to plan - there goes  that  side of him again). Now -a few months after Tul has mentioned it- they were standing in a field of pumpkins surrounded by the most beautiful autumn color scheme. Leaves crunching under their boots as they move from pumpkin to pumpkin.

They had layered up, Gulf only putting one layer -and the damn blue blanket around his shoulder like some sort of cape- stating he wasn’t that prone to the cold as Mew was but immediately shivering as soon as the cold winter chill hit his face. Mew stuffed the extra coat he’d brought (specifically because he knew Gulf would do this) over Gulf, stuffing a knitted hat down over his ears -already pink and chilled, not forgetting to drop a kiss to them to help them warm up - before finally catching those hands to cover them with warm mittens. Mittens that were now holding up a pumpkin above the boy's head, giant smile plastered across his face.

“P’Mew looks at this one,” Gulf yells, uncaring of the other couples and families he’s disturbed in his joy. "It's the best most perfect pumpkin."

Mew can't help but think Gulf fits so well within the surrounding beauty. Like something out of a magazine. His skin glowing with its soft undertones of pink wrapped in the soft browns and yellows (because Mew is nothing if not always fashionable and made sure to pick out clothes that he knew would fit their activities) that blend in perfectly with the autumn aesthetic. He looks like he smells of pumpkin spice that they put in everything here in the states.

Breathtaking  was the only word he could think of. But stunning or ethereal might be close seconds. He, like always, was enamored by Gulf.

He could imagine their proposal being in a place like this and is almost sad that he didn’t bring the rings with him. He'd been too worried about making sure Gulf was sufficiently covered up to even think about grabbing them before they left.

“Looks perfect. Does it have a matching pair?” Mew asks, in a much more muted tone than the yell he had received. Gulf purses his lips, wide eyes flitting around.

Mew lets his eyes wander around the pumpkin patch. He lands on a couple a few rows down, two females who are wearing significantly fewer clothes than he and Gulf. He assumes they must have grown up around here to be ok with only a jacket and a hat. No gloves in sight. He's got a winter jacket, a sweater, and a body warmer on and can still feel the chill.

He watches as one leans into the other for a cheek kiss, he can hear the exchange of praise on her pumpkin find. He spots matching rings on their fingers. A little rumble of jealousy rolling up into him because he's not currently wearing matching rings with his beloved. It's petty and he is fully aware it's his fault, doesn't stop the jealousy though. He watches the girls walk out of the field together happily chatting over their pumpkin before he turns back to Gulf - who seems to have made a friend.

The closer he gets he can hear the small child talking about how he lost his parents. Gulf, who's grouched to the kids level, glances around sending a worried glance Mew's way.

“I think he lost his parents,” Gulf says and the kid sends them a weird glance. Probably the Thai instead of English.

“What do your parents look like?” Mew says in English and the boy purses his lips, looking dejectedly around. He doesn’t blame the kid for not knowing, he couldn’t be more than six. Mew probably couldn’t describe his mom now if he lost her in a crowd much less at that age. Thank technology for phones so he didn't have to worry about that.

Mew spots a couple off to the other side of the field, frantically looking around. Gulf catches the stare before he ushers the kid onto his back. Giving a few bounces to earn a smile.

“Is that them?” Gulf asks in English, the small boy peering over his shoulder before letting out a squeal.

“Mommy.” The boy flapping his hands in that direction. Guess they were right.

“Let me take him over-“

“I got it," Gulf interrupts him with a small and another small bounce to adjust the kid on his back, "Someone needs to protect the perfect pumpkin and he's already on my back.”

Mew stands astonished and flabbergasted for a moment. Gulf was not one to be confident in his English but he didn’t see the least bit bothered as he talked to the kid in broken English. Even now as he watches Gulf head across the field, he can see them chatting together and something pulls in his heart.

He adds ‘adoption’ to his mental list of future events to have with Gulf right after getting a house together but before living a long happy life together. He glances down at the pumpkin at his feet, the best pumpkin as Gulf had named it. It was a nice pumpkin.

Mew looks back up to watch -a bit with bated breathe- as Gulf hands the boy over to his parents, Gulf hands wave around (an odd jerky movement because he's unsure of his words) as he explains. Then he wais and Mew snickers at the instinct. The parents laugh, shouting their thanks even as Gulf shuffles away.

Gulf bounds back over to him, face all red from the cold and embarrassment, maybe a little bit of pride. Mew thinks Gulf looks so beautiful, so gorgeous, and then he’s gone from his vision. A moment of panic before Mew realizes Gulf had tripped. A few more seconds pass (Mew debates how long he should wait before bolting over, three seconds, ten? what if Gulf is hurt-) before Gulf is flapping back into a stand, giggles spilling out of him as a few leaves stick off him. Gulf seems unbothered by them as he makes it back to Mew, explaining the meeting (Like Mew hadn't been watching the whole thing happen), while Mew took it upon himself to pick the leaves off his clothes and the one from his hair before leaning in and kissing Gulfs cherry red nose.

Mew thinks he might be sick with love as Gulf smiles back at him just short of breathe, eyes shimmering with anything and everything Mew could ever want. He's definitely sick with love. He'll never find anything better than Gulf because Gulf is it. He can hear Gulf's voice telling him that he's being too sappy but he can't help it. He's always loved too much for his heart, weighing him down like anchors on his feet.

“You did so well Tue ang.” Gulf preens at the words, the glow under his skin no longer from the weather but from his happiness. Gulf hooking their pinkies together for a moment, and the weight feels justified. Like he's loving Gulf just enough as they other soaks in it.

“Did you find the second one?”

“Not yet, let’s check over there.”

Gulf picks up his perfect pumpkin, holding it close to his torso like a child as they walked to a different part of the patch to look. Mew can't help but wrap his arms around Gulf, pressing against his back till they waddle past a few more pumpkins. He pats the pumpkin likes he's done so many times before to Gulf tummy with a soft tung tung tung sound. Gulf pats it a few times as well making a weird rhythm that matches their mismatches steps.

"What about that one?"

Gulf hums glancing between the newfound pumpkin and his own a few times. "I think we found our match."

"Like us?"

"So cheesy," Gulf laughs before glancing around briefly before sniff kissing Mew temple. "Like us."

Mew gets them hot chocolate -made from a powder that was recommended to them by the owner of the cabin when they’d first arrived - as soon as they make it back. Pumpkins perched on a newspaper lined table. They shed their outer layers; coats, boots, hats, and gloves while sharing a few kisses that warmed them up pretty quick. Mew had tried to go further, you know, for warmth.

“Let me warm you up.” Mew kisses down Gulf neck, hands sneaking their way under Gulf shirt but as soon as his fingers made contact with Gulf's warm belly he was pushed away.

“Your fingers are freezing,” Gulf says his teeth chattering with a tiny shiver. “Pumpkins first. That'll warm you up.”

Mew sulked, made sure that he was visibly pouting, tried to give his best puppy dog eyes but Gulf just laughs and kissed his cheeks. Which is a safe place seeing as Mew would take a kiss to the lips as an attack and he was ready for that naked battle. So Mew settled for hot chocolate a handful of extra marshmallows in his cup that he definitely replenished halfway through his drink, Gulf noses at his cheek mid-sip -which he knows it Gulf way of soothing his sulking- before settling beside him in his own chair.

Mew was a bit worried about letting Gulf free with sharp objects but there really wasn’t another choice if they wanted to carve pumpkins.

Gulf gulps his drink as he watches a video of someone explaining how to carve correctly. His right hand holding a knife while the other caressing the pumpkin in a pattern that Mew assuming he's going to try and carve.

“Doesn’t seem hard.” He turns to Mew showing his screen as if Mew hadn’t been watching along from beside him the whole time. Mew leans in to kiss the leftover chocolate residue off Gilfs lips with a soft hum of agreement. Gulf stares at him for a second, something flashing in his eyes before he hazily licks his lips turning back to his pumpkin. Mew smirks.

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

Gulf grunts in annoyance, “I’m not a child. I can handle knives.”

Mew bite his tongue from the sassy remark as he bandaged Gulf fingers. Somehow managing to slice across three of them before stabbing his palm. None of the wounds were deep but they were enough for Mew to call the pumpkin carving event over.

“I'm not done with mine though.” Gulf whines, hissing as Mew daps his palm with medication.

Mew blows gently over it before placing the gauze over the wound. “They’re good enough.”

"I'm not going to cut myself again," Gulf grumbles, eyeing his hand now wrapped in white gauze.

"You're right, you won't." Mew puts the first aid kit back together. "Because we're finished carving."

"What are we supposed to do instead-" Mew sends him a look that immediately tells him exactly what they could do instead. "Fine, no more carving. Not that either. There's a stand up the road I saw that had caramel apples. Can we go see that?"

Mew pouts, "I didn't have anything else planned for this evening though."

Gulf slinks forward wrapping his arms around Mew's neck, "It's like 4 in the afternoon. Let's go check out the stand and later when it gets darker we can light up our..."

"Jack-o-lanterns."

"That's it, Jack-o-lanterns, I knew having you around would be useful."

Mew tugs him closer, sniff kissing his neck than his cheek. Pumpkin and chocolate.

They wrap themselves back up and walk hand in hand down the road until they got to the stand, Gulfs hand loosens but he doesn't let go as he looks through all the products and different candy-covered fruits.

Gulf convinces him to buy a Carmel apple slice and a slice of chocolate pear. Gulf shrugs after a small bite, not really liking the taste, so Mew finishes them off. The stand owner is a cute little old woman who ushers them behind the stand when she learns they are foreigners here for vacation. Her excitement shows as she all but swoons over how handsome they were and tuts at them for never having tried s'mores.

"They're mandatory for this time a year." She had exclaimed and who were they to argue when they've never had them.

A small bonfire was going, with about six kids sitting around it. According to her, she's the local babysitter. She sits them down and hands them a stick and marshmallow. The kids show them how to roast it and make s'mores.

"You got to let it catch on fire." A little boy, Tim, yells excitedly as he shoves his marshmallow in the fire. He tugs Gulf stick closer to his, further into the fire.

A little girl, Lily, beside Mew gives an angry noise, "No, you want it to be brown and crunchy. Not burnt."

She places her hand over Mews as they watch their sticks in the fire. Mew is careful to keep an eye on Gulf, his instincts would let him not. The boy's grip on Gulg injured hand was making him weary. Gulf seems unbothered by it.

Gulf's Marshmellow catches on fire and Tim helps him pull it out of the fire. "Blow on it. Blow on it!" Tim flaps a bit and Gulf blows out the tiny flame a little more exaggerated than he needed to but Tim seems more than amused before handing Gulf graham crackers and a piece of chocolate.

"Now smash them together." This Tim and Lily seemed to agree on and Gulf did. The marshmallow oozing out the sides before he plops it into his mouth. Mew moves his marshmallow out of the flames to watch Gulf chew, mouth stuffed and lips pursed out. Marshmellow goo over his thumb and bandaged wrapped pointer finger, which he pulled out of his glove to hold the sandwich. Adorable.

"Yummy." He says once he's swallowed enough to talk. Tim laughs, giving Gulf a high five, that looks and sounds rather sticky before turning to his own quickly darkening marshmallow.

"Is it really good Tua eng?" Mew whispers, nudging his leg.

Gulf turns to him, chocolate and marshmallow rimming his lips. "Pretty sweet but not bad. I think one is enough for me."

Mew tries too, with plenty of help from Lily. She seems like a born leader and she knows it. He likes it but Gulf was right its pretty sweet. He ate one more and stopped there if only because he knew he'll have to work them off later. He might have been on vacation but he still had an image. Gulf likes the biceps so he keeps his biceps. That's just how it works. Also, he's pretty sure that if he didn't stop himself with two he'll eat the whole bag. He definitely sees the appeal of smores and roasted marshmallows.

A while later they head back to the cabin, the sun low in the sky, by the time they make it back the sun has gone down for the day. The moon rising in the sky as they set the half-carved pumpkins outside the doors. The tea lights they put inside glowed minimally through the holes in the pumpkin. It was pathetic and comical. Mews was basically done, two eyes and a jagged mouth starred back at them but Gulfs only had a mouth and part of one eye. Neither were even but they look kind of cute leaning against each other.

They take pictures and post them along with a few they'd taken during the picking stage. Mew sets a particularly cute one as his lock screen. It’s one of them smiling at the camera, cheeks pressed together with the beautiful trees in the background. He changes his Home Screen to one of him kissing a surprised looking Gulf on the cheek, the same beautiful trees in the background.

“We look like a real couple,” Gulf says looking at their matching lock screens.

“In the picture or the marching screens?”

Gulf chuckles, leaning into Mew side. “Both. But also right now. Standing here looking at our masterpieces by the front door.”

They soak it in, the calm of the evening, the chill of the night, their wonkly carve pumpkins. Just let them be in their love. Mew had a thought that this might be one of those moments but Gulf turns to him, a soft smile on his face.

"I love you." And fuck if Mew's heart didn't melt and resolidify so he could continue to let Gulf hold it and take care of it. The next moment they're stumbling through the cabin, Gulf tasted sweet, chocolate and marshmallows against his tongue. The tang of arousal heavy in the air as Gulf raised the warmth through his body chasing away anything that wasn't Gulf from his mind.

Mew was picking up, Tul and some of his college friends were coming over for scary movies because that’s what you did, apparently. Not that he was mad, he just wasn’t a fan of scary movies but he was interested in the food they had talked about eating during the movies. Plus he could just pull Gulf into his lap and hide behind his back if he got too scared.

“How did these...?” Mew grabs the boxers hanging from the oven door next to the towel. He definitely remembers their morning activities where they made use of the big counters but he’s pretty sure he tossed Gulfs boxers to the ground, not the oven. Doesn’t really matter just means he made a good decision cleaning before the guest arrived. How awkward would it have been if Tul (or one of his friends) had found them instead? Though it could be worse, at least it wasn't lingerie or a toy.

“All finished?” Gulf says clad in one of Mews long sleeve shirts and flannel pants, hair fluffy atop his head from his previous shower, a few strands sticking up wildly. Mew pats then down before rubbing his fingers through the soft locks. Gulf groans softly in his chest, eyes fluttering to gives him a stare, a very tempting one. So very tempting.

They'd been having so much sex the past couple of days, Mew was pretty sure they were making up for the lack of sex they’d not been having the past few months because of busy schedules while also maybe stacking up for the sex they wouldn’t be having for a while once they go back to Thailand. Mew quickly pushed aside the thoughts of his already planned out busy schedule to pepper kisses all over Gulf face. Making sure to leave a big noisy one on his lips last before pulling away with a pop. He can't be tempted, people were on their way over and he doesn't want to be caught in the middle of something when they arrived.

“Yeah, we should be ready to have guests over.”

It’s a few hours later when Mew finds himself watch Gulf stir a pot of cider. There had been jokes about it being a witches cauldron and now that the dark amber liquid inside was bubbling it really did look like it. Mew was glad that Tul's friend Ann had already basically finished the apple cider because it takes hours to simmer, according to her. He wasn't sure but he trusted her judgment as someone who says they make it regularly.

Gulf giggles as he stirs the pot, Mark plops a witches hat over his head and the giggle turns to a witches cackle. Mew is the first to start laughing and everyone follows after in a chain reaction. Gulf seems pleased with himself with a satisfied grin on his face as Ann pulls him over the table to help with the cookies. The witches hat falls off and leaving his hair sticking up in the back and Mew has the urge to walk over and fix it.

Mark nudges Mew to turn his attention back to the pumpkin pie, he takes one last look at Gulf who shakes his head, the strands of hair falling back into place.

Mew wasn’t good at baking or cooking but this pie didn’t seem hard. Which it wasn’t. Basically, throw everything into a bowl mix, and dump it into the pie crust - a cinnamon pie crust Ann had made.

Mew sat back watching when the pie went into the oven to bake. Tul was mixing fresh popcorn with Carmel with Ann's girlfriend Veera who was also making ‘the absolute best’ roasted butternut squash soup. The cabin smelled of pumpkin, spice, and every nice while soft indie band quietly filled any silence with melodic guitar riffs.

“P’Mew.” Mew tips his head towards the voice, Gulf is holding up a cookie that looks like a ball with four stubs. “Chopper.”

Mew crinkled his nose in acknowledgment, a smile still plastered across his face, it was enough for Gulf as he turns back to the cookies. It didn't look like chopper but then it didn't need to, it was the thought around the cookie.

“He’s cute,” Mark comments handing him a cup of apple cider that was done deemed done by Veera moments ago. “You guys seem close.”

"Yeah, we are." Mew sips, coughing for a moment at the onslaught of cinnamon and clove spice hitting him in the back of the throat. Mark gives him a few sympathetic pats on the back.

“Should have warned you, Ann likes the kick.” Mark chuckles and Mew gives a small one as well once his breathing feels right again. He shoots a glance to Gulf who waits for the eye contact to send him a brief smile.

“It’s not bad,” He says taking another sip now expecting the spices. “I could get used to this.”

“Alcohol makes it better too.” Mark sloshes his cup before pointing to the fireball on the counter. Mew shakes his head declining the offer.

“Better watch out for your boy, I think Ann might try and adopt him.”

Mark was right Ann seemed smitten as she coos at Gulf. Pinching his cheek before wiping some cookie dough he’d gotten magically on his nose.

“He might take her up in that offer.” He laughs maybe a little too loud. “He’s probably tired of waiting for me to propose.”

Mark leans against the back of the couch and Mew follows taking a big sip of the apple cider. It's better now that he's used to the taste.

“Why haven’t you?”

He hears a question in his mind, one that he'd been silently asking himself for a long while now.  Are you waiting because you think he will walk away, that he’ll leave you? That he'll find someone more worthy of his love.  

Though he would never admit that to being a major underlining reason for his hesitance, it was. It rumbled through his mind more often than he would like to admit. It seemed like a silly worry to have when Gulf showed him how much he loves him every day in his own way. So instead he settled on the one that he blamed more often than not.

“I want it to be perfect because he’s perfect for me.”

Something big and dopey crossed over Mark's face as he nudged Mew's arm a few times cooing loudly. “I know what you're feeling buddy.”

Mark looked over to the table, Tul was now helping them clean up, cookies now in the ovens. “I’m engaged to Ann's sister.”

“Yeah?”

Mark chuckles, “Yeah we had decided we would get engaged and I told her I would figure it out. Every moment felt right but not perfect so I kept pushing it back and back until a year had passed and Mealie got so mad with me. ‘Do you not want to be married to me anymore?' she asked. I was a valid question. I told her I couldn’t find the perfect moment. Do you know what she said to me?”

Mew shook his head, sipping his drink.

“Every moment I’m with you is perfect so pick one or I will. And she did. Like a month later she found my rings and proposed to me right in the middle of the family barbecue.”

They both chuckle, Mark a little bit louder as a sense of remembrance crosses his features. “She sounds wonderful.”

“She is." Mark agrees, nudging him again this time it was softer, waiting till Mews attention was back to him before saying, "Not everyone gets to enjoy the opportunity of marriage they way we do, she said, I don’t want to waste it when I found the love of my life.”

Mark throws his arm over Mew's shoulder pulling him close. The smell of cinnamon and spices from the cider hitting him in the nose.

“Even here in the states, there are places that don’t accept it and other countries that condone it. If you get the opportunity to marry your true love, and it’s something you both want. Don't waste the opportunity waiting for the perfect moment, instead just make every moment perfect.”

“...Thank you.”

Mew hadn't pulled Gulf into his lap during the movie instead Gulf leaned against him as they shared caramel corn and cookies. Halfway through Gulf's fingers laced with his under the blankets, giving him a small squeeze every so often. Marks words rumbling around in his head, he drops a kiss to Gulf head, he didn't want to wait any longer.

(Mew hadn't forgotten to get all the recipes that day for Jom, he thinks she'll like these especially the gingersnap cookies.)

Mew wraps his arms around Gulf, looking out at the snow-covered forest. First snow of the year - said the news earlier. Mew was glad that they got to see it. Gulf seems entranced by the ethereal sight as well. The white snow packed down over the earth covering everything into something soft and quiet. Seemingly absorbing all the negativity of the world and leaving behind peace and tranquillity. Everything seemed to have a sheen of sparkles to it like someone had mixed them with the snow as it was falling. It was quite a sight.

“I sent some pictures to the family.”

“They jealous?” Mew rubs his nose into Gulf nape, inhaling the crisp cold air and Gulf's natural musk.

“Maybe a little bit it might not be all because of the weather.” Gulf wiggles until he turns to face Mew. Tugging the blanket around them both, cocooning them in its warmth.

“What else could they possibly be jealous over, if not this gorgeous view,” Mew whispers, placing a butterfly soft kiss to Gulf's redden nose and chilled soft cheeks. Then one to his lips because Gulf pursed them just so and how could he resist?

“You know I thought you had asked me out here to propose finally.” Gulf words were teasing and gently as he curls in to nuzzle at Mew's neck. Mew's hands rub over his back instinctively, holding him close.

They stand in silence for a moment before Mew begins to sway them softly. One hand caressing Gulf waist while the other moving to cup Gulf's neck, fingers burying in his damp chilled hair. Gulf sighs contently against his chest, fingers half holding the blanket and half gripping Mews shirt at his shoulders.

“I thought about it. So many times, I thought about it.” Mew's lips brush against Gulf temple as he speaks, wayward snow crunches under their slipper clad feet as they sway. “At the pumpkin patch, where you looked like you were made for autumn. Or after we got back from the stand and you tasted like chocolate and marshmallows. Or watching you talk in English with such confidence. So proud of you for that-”

Gulf places an open mouth kiss to Mew's neck before another peck to his jaw.

“-I thought about when we woke up and made love with the falling snowed as our backdrop this morning.”

“Did all of your thinking get you anywhere?” Gulf mummers against his chest and Mew tightens his hold. Their swaying slows to a stop.

“I thought every moment could have been the moment but then I worried that there would be a better one later if I just waited.”

Gulf leans away, eyes searching, and patient. "Will there ever be a moment perfect enough for you?" Mew knows Gulf would wait forever for him to find what Mew calls the perfect moment to propose.

"I'm starting to think my standards are too high." Mew feels the soft rumbley laughter against his chest. He lets out a small chuckle as well shifting to begin the soft swaying once more.

"Do you want me to do it so you can stop stressing over it?" Gulf looks up at him with sincerity and love and just a little bit of teasing.

Mew nibbles on his bottom lip, contemplating the offer, Gulf leaning against almost limply as they sway. Everything calm and serin, perfect.

"Maybe I should?" Gulf hums softly against his neck. "Maybe I should just do it because every moment with you is perfect."

Gulf pulls back scrunching his nose playfully as he shakes his head. "Cheesy."

Gulf tugs at his hair pulling their mouths together into a kiss - soft needing filled with everything Mew every wanted and will ever want.

“Will you?” He asks, a little desperately yet filled with hope. Lips brushing against Gulf as he speaks.

“Will I?”

"Marry me?"

Gulf exhales a little puff before rubbing their foreheads together. It's a little aggressive reminding Mew of their workshops for the first season of Tharntype when Gulf didn't understand how to show his softness through touch. When everything he did was stiff and firm and Mew had to ease his hand to be held or show him had card fingers through hair in a loving manner. Gulf huffs again and this time the kiss is forceful. Much like their kisses back then were. Like Gulf was trying to brand his lips with his own.

“I love you Ti Rak,” Gulf says in a low gravely voice before forcing their lips back together, teeth-gnashing and tongues wrapping around each other like he could get enough. It tasting like wanting and need. And a hint of desperate love. But that might just be from Mew.

Mew pulls away the reciprocated 'I love you too' on the tip of his tongue but Gulf cups his face, fingers gentle now as he pants softly. "Your perfect proposal is lacking rings."

Mew was sure it was supposed to be a joke but Gulf breathless words a small feeling of panic within him. Gulf seemed to sense his impeding overthinking by the hitch in his breath and forces another long, slow, kiss from this mouth. "I'm cold."

Gulf looks up at him from beneath his lashes, eyes swirling like a vortex sucking Mew in. "Warm me up?" He asks so softly.

Mew pulls him inside and tosses him to the bed, the blanket fluttering around him. Mew pulls away from the kiss with a pop. He almost lets those sparkling golden eyes draw him back in but he tears himself away, all but throwing himself at his stuff in search of the tiny velvet box. Gulf pushes up on his elbows to amusedly watch Mew.

"I was kidding about the rings-"

"I'm not though..." Mew makes a sound of excitement, box clutched in his hand before turning back to Gulf, one the knee on the ground. He tugs at Gulf's hand until he's sitting up and he holds the box out to him.

"You didn't answer before." He opens the velvet box letting the two matching rings glimmer in the dim light.

Gulf covers the rings with one hand while the other cups Mews cheeks, thumb rubbing a slow circle over his cheekbone. "You just want me to say it out loud."

"It's nice to hear."

Gulf snorts a small chuckle before pulling Mew up and over him on the bed. He pulls a ring out and slides it over Mew's finger even as the older boy is trying to shake him off muttering 'I get to do that.'

"Silly Phi." Gulf says slowly once the ring is on Mew before putting the matching on his fingers "I have been ready since the day we first kissed. I was just waiting for you."

Mews breathe hitches and his eyes water, Gulf rubbed their noses together. "Yes, I want to marry you."

Mew didn't know what he wanted to look at more, the way the ring sparkled in the rays of light streaming through the window, glimmering as snow falls outside their window reflecting off the ring or at Gulf. His beautiful, stunning, gorgeous, wonderful fiance.

"Cheesy," Gulf says looking smitten.

Mew pulls on Gulf hand to kiss the ring, then finger it's settled on, right under the bandage still covering his fingertip before trails his lips over Gulf palm to kiss his wrist. "But you like it?" Mew says hopefully.

"I like you and I guess that means all the cheese that comes with it too."

[cruelangelstheses]

with quiet courage

fandom: coraline rating: G characters: coraline, wybie words: 2.1k additional tags: canon compliant, post-canon, fluff, angst, mental health issues, character study description: years later, wybie gives coraline a gift. a/n: hi, this was written for the @ethereal-zine! i just thought it would be interesting to explore the long-term effects that the whole ordeal with the other world could have on coraline’s mental health. title from “with quiet courage” by larry daehn

read it on ao3

—

Something feels...wrong.

She can’t explain it, can’t even fully comprehend it herself, but the house feels different tonight, like it’s just waiting for the right moment to pounce. Every creak sends chills down her spine. This isn’t right.

Coraline glances out the kitchen window at their garden, but finds that she can’t really see it, despite the fact that the moon is close to full, last time she checked. She raises her gaze to the sky, squinting in confusion, and her heart nearly stops at what she sees: a shadow passing over the moon in the shape of a button, holes and all.

Gasping, Coraline pushes herself away from the window, every inch of her suddenly on high alert. That’s when she hears it: a familiar metallic skittering across the floor, a sound she knows all too well.

She bolts out of the kitchen and up the stairs, leaping into her bedroom and slamming the door shut behind her. Her blood rushes in her ears.

It only gives her a few moments’ reprieve before she hears the skittering again, even closer and louder than before. Coraline backs away from the door, frantically searching her room for anything she could use as a weapon. She digs underneath her pillow for the pocketknife she bought in secret a year or two ago, but inexplicably, it’s nowhere to be found. Her heart nearly stops when she sees the hand crawl in from underneath.

The hand is severed at first, but from its wrist seems to grow an arm, a torso, another arm, all made out of needles. Coraline steels herself as the Beldam materializes before her eyes.

“You are my daughter,” she hisses, as something else appears in one of her hands. “You’re going to stay with me forever.”

In one hand, she holds another needle, already threaded. In the other is a gift box, and inside it sits a pair of black buttons.

“Hold still,” the Beldam continues. Coraline tries to move, to fight, to do anything, but her whole body is suddenly frozen. “This will only hurt a bit.” She takes a step forward, needle pointing at Coraline’s face, and then—

Coraline jolts awake and sits up rapidly, trying to catch her breath. The morning light streams through her bedroom window, a reminder of where she is: not the Other World, but the real one. Reaching under her pillow, she feels for her pocketknife. She is seventeen now, but still the events of her childhood plague her dreams.

She still has her stuffed animals. Most of the time, they sit on her shelf, watching over her like guardian angels, ensuring that danger doesn’t even make it through the doorway. Sometimes, though, on nights where the house creaks more than usual, on nights where Coraline swears she can feel a sinister gaze burning into her back, she grabs a few of them and sleeps with them in her bed, holding them tight against her chest, as if they will cast a bubble around her body that protects her from any harm. Sometimes she doesn’t even sleep, just lies awake in terror for hours on end. She’s far too old to sleep in her parents’ bed, but some nights, she tiptoes over to their bedroom and cracks the door open, just enough so she can see that they’re still there, safe and sound.

Coraline loves her parents, but they don’t completely understand everything. It’s not their fault; they have no memory of being kidnapped by the Beldam, and they weren’t witness to anything else that happened that fateful year. She tried to explain bits and pieces when she was younger, but they dismissed it as a child’s wild imagination or particularly vivid dreams, and she’s not sure she can really blame them. After all, it hardly sounds believable.

She’s made some other friends at her new school, and they’re wonderful, but none of them get it, either. They don’t understand why she cringes every time they point out the tiny door that leads to nowhere when they come over to her house. They don’t understand why buttons and dolls disturb her to this day, or why when she looks at a snow globe, it always takes her a moment to register that there is nothing frightening inside of it. “Something happened to me when I was a kid,” she told them once, to allay their concerns. “It was really scary. I could’ve died. So if I ever do something...weird, that’s probably why.” None of them questioned her, then, when she bought that pocketknife. If nothing else, she’s grateful for that.

Wybie and his grandmother are the only ones she can actually talk to about what happened, and she’s not going to come to them every single time she has a paranoid thought (which is, unfortunately, fairly often). Usually she can calm herself down, anyway; she just has to take deep breaths and remind herself that the key is gone, at the bottom of a bottomless well, and the Beldam can never open that godforsaken portal ever again.

It takes lying there for another ten minutes, eyes closed and focusing on nothing but the sound of her own breathing, for Coraline to finally muster up the energy to pull herself out of bed. At least it’s a Friday, she tells herself. She has to work a bit this weekend, but her job involves more stocking shelves than interacting with other people, so it’s still better than school.

It’s not that she hates school. She likes learning when it’s interesting, and she likes seeing her friends. It’s not even that she dislikes other people, because she doesn’t, really. Even people she thought were weird or annoying at first, like Wybie, have grown on her with time. It’s just that she fears she’ll have a flashback or a panic attack in the middle of class and embarrass herself. It’s happened before—in middle school she was branded a freak when a sewing project in her home economics class brought her to tears for reasons she didn’t know how to explain. Strangely enough, she feels safer in her neighborhood. It’s an environment she knows well, and as odd as her neighbors are, she trusts them to protect her, even if they might not be aware of it. She remembers Mr. Bobinsky’s warning not to go through the little door, and she remembers the adder stone given to her by Misses Spink and Forcible—and, of course, she remembers Wybie, who once called her crazy before he saw the Beldam’s severed hand for himself, before he helped her dispose of the key for good. Technically, he’s the one who found the Coraline doll that spied on her in the first place—a fact that she hates him for on her worst days—but she knows that he had no idea, and it doesn’t do any good to blame him. After all, even if he may have inadvertently introduced Coraline to the Other Mother, he also helped to defeat her.

While Coraline is choosing her outfit for the day, her phone buzzes: a text from Wybie. Hey Jonesy, it reads, meet me outside then. I got something for ya.

Coraline raises an eyebrow. That could mean anything. Still, she sends him a quick Ok and slips her clothes on. If it happens to be a slug or something, at least she can say her day got off to an interesting start.

Being writers, her parents don’t have to wake up as early as she does, so Coraline usually fixes her own breakfast—often something quick, like a muffin—and heads out the door. Today is no exception, her meal a bowl of cereal and a glass of orange juice. It sort of makes her feel like a kid again, in a good way. Sitting alone at the kitchen table, Cheerios in her spoon, the sun rising over the foggy mountains, a feeling of quiet peace and even innocence settles over her like dust on a bookshelf. In this moment, there is no fear, no nightmares, no flashbacks. In this moment, she is not a teenager doing her best to survive even while her mind begs to differ. She is the little girl she once was, before she was forced to be brave in the face of true horror. The sky glows pink and orange, a phenomenon unknown to the Other World. She’s grown to appreciate daylight more since then.

Finally, Coraline vaults her backpack over her shoulder and pushes the front door open, saying a silent goodbye to her parents in her head. Sure enough, at the bottom of the hill, leaning up against the Pink Palace sign, is Wybie, who looks like he’s playing a game on his phone. When he hears the sound of her footsteps, he looks up and waves to her.

“You’re back,” she says once she’s close enough to him to talk without having to shout. For the past two weeks, Wybie has been on a school trip to Germany. (Coraline couldn’t go because she’s taking Spanish instead of German.) It’s pretty stupid for them to get back on a Friday and then have to go to regular school for one day, in her opinion, but that’s just how it worked out. “You said you have something for me?” She can’t help but wonder if it’s a souvenir of some sort. She’d joked about him getting her one, but she didn’t actually expect him to do it.

“Yeah,” Wybie says. As they start to walk down the path that leads to town and their school, he pulls something small out of his jeans pocket, holding it in both hands so she can’t see what it is. His voice sounds strangely solemn. “So, you know how you said Miss Spink and Miss Forcible gave you that stone that one time? The one with the hole in the middle?”

Coraline remembers it well: the adder stone that helped her find the ghost children’s eyes all those years ago. When she read up about them later on, she found that rocks with naturally occurring holes in them, called adder stones or hag stones, are said to have magical properties. One of them is the ability to see through a witch or fairy’s disguises or traps, but others include the prevention of nightmares and curing whooping cough.

Coraline certainly doesn’t have whooping cough, but she does have nightmares, and she’s already seen the power of an adder stone for herself. “Yeah,” she says slowly. “They’re pretty rare. The Other Mother destroyed the one I had.”

Wybie flashes her a little half-smile and opens his palms, revealing a round, grayish stone with a medium-sized hole in it. “We visited the north coast one day,” he says as she takes it from him, “and I just happened to stumble across it. Apparently that’s one of the places where they’re more common, in northern Germany.” He shrugs. “I saw it, and I knew I had to give it to you. Not like you’ll need to find any more ghost children’s eyes, but…”

Coraline holds the stone up to her eye, feeling an odd comfort when she looks through the hole, even though nothing seems different. Feeling a soft smile spread across her face, she slips the stone into her pocket and says, “Thank you, Wybie.” Then, to lighten the mood, she adds, “I guess taking German was a good decision after all.”

Wybie blows a raspberry at her. “Hey, who got to go to a foreign country? Not you.”

They banter back and forth like that for a while, but part of Coraline is still focused on the stone in her pocket and the thoughtfulness behind it. It’s so small, but both the stone and the gesture give her the burst of courage she needs to get through the rest of the day, the week, the month. It’s a different kind of courage from what she had to muster up to stop the Beldam. It’s subtler, quieter. It’s the courage of a girl who has seen real ugliness, who has felt the deepest and most primal sort of fear, who went through hell and came out alive but unsure where to go from there. How do you keep on going when you’ve been face to face with death?

The answer, she realizes, is simple: it takes courage. It might be the kind that only a few people can see, but it’s courage all the same.

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Steve//this moment will just be another story someday

hi! based off this song. we have a bi reader because i wanted it soooo. and i know it’s the middle of march but i don’t care because i worked hard on this and i’m sad. ps, if that song finishes before you’ve read all of this (or if you just want to listen to something else), i suggest listening to this 

The 4th of July is supposed to be a happy holiday celebrated by most of the American population. Fireworks are enjoyed by families, barbecues are frequented by friends and carnivals come into town to be enjoyed by everyone. Everyone is happy to be celebrating their independence, even though they were awarded it years ago, and even though the majority of Americans don’t really have their independence, they just pretend they do. 

However, in the dingy bar that Steve is sat in, the 4th of July feels like a foreign holiday. The place is barely lit, the only light source coming from a few overhead lights and the occasional end of a cigarette. The few people scattered around the place look like they either did all the partying when they were about 40 years younger, or they’re too drunk to celebrate. In some cases its both. The fireworks outside sound more like gunshots to Steve as he nurses his drink that he’s been staring at for the past hour. Despite the hot July weather of San Francisco, Steve feels cold, a chill finding its way up his spine as he looks at the clock. 11:23pm...at least there’s not long left of this dreaded holiday. 

When he was younger he used to love July 4th. All his cousins would come visit him and for a day he wouldn’t feel so alone in that big house. His father would actually acknowledge his presence, showing off what little accomplishments he’d achieved over the year in order to make the other adults jealous. And his mom would always let him have a sparkler once the sun had set. Usually his dad had gone to bed by then so it would just be him and his mom in the back garden, drawing patterns and writing words into the night sky. 

However, after the events of last years 4th of July, he has a feeling he’s never going to enjoy it again. 

He sighs and downs the last of his drink, ordering another from the old man at the bar who’s watching out the only window in the whole place. He nods and gives him a re-fill before sitting back on his stool. 

Steve starts to think about what he’d be doing right now if last year had gone different. If there had never been Russians under the mall, if he hadn’t fought for his life yet again. Would he still be in Hawkins? Working with Robin? Babysitting the party despite their protests of how ‘We’re too old for a babysitter’ and ‘You can just say we’re your friends’. 

Would his father still be disappointed in him? Something he’s grown used to over the years. Or would he have gone to work for him to make him just a little prouder. Maybe if it weren’t for all this demogorgon shit, he might have actually got into a college. Wait...no he wouldn’t have. Like his father said ‘the only sad excuse you have for this mess is yourself’. 

Maybe his mother would still look at him like he was her son and not a stranger. Who knows. But he sure as hell knows he’s been a lot happier here the other 313 days he’s been finding a new life for himself in San Francisco.

313.

It hasn’t seemed that long until he’s thought about it. He lasted 52 days after the events of Starcourt before it got too much. Too much had happened in that small town. The people he cared about had been hurt. The people he didn’t, had know clue. Taking their little lives for granted. He needed to get out. So he sold the majority of his stuff, used the savings he’d been clever enough to hide (thanks to Robin), packed his bag and drove. He drove without looking back. Well, he did three times. 

First he went to see Robin. To of course say goodbye, to tell her to be safe and if she needed anything to call him. He’d managed to find a cramped apartment in a semi-decent neighborhood before he left, so he scribbled the number down on a leftover napkin she’d brought home one day after a shift at Scoops and he smiled at the irony of the situation. 

Second he went to see Dustin. His mom was not pleased about being woken up in the middle of the night but when she say the pleading in his eyes she let him in. Too nice to have refused him anyway. She liked Steve, he was a good influence of Dustin. Dustin walked out into the living room sleepily after being woken by his mom. He rubbed his eyes as he rounded the corner, although as soon as he saw Steve he was wide awake. Steve explained what he was doing and how sorry he was that he was leaving but of course he understood. Was he upset? Definitely. But did he understand? More than anyone. So Steve also scribbled his new number down and passed it to him, along with a can of Farrah Fawcett spray, and when Mrs Henderson wasn’t looking he slipped him his nailed baseball bat out of his duffel bag. 

The third place he went was a surprise to himself. He didn’t know he was going there until he found himself parked outside. Hawkins Cemetery. The gates were closed but you could always jump over the fence round the back, thats usually how the weird kids got in so they could drink and try to talk to the dead. He navigated his way through the dark and three years ago he would have been silently shitting himself, however after all the stuff he’d saw there was nothing that really scared him anymore. He walked for a few minutes before finding his destination. 

‘Barbara Holland. 

In memory of our beloved daughter. 

She will not be forgotten.’

Steve’s fingers traced over the top of the gravestone delicately. The cold stone doesn’t affect him as he seems to get lost in his thoughts. He hadn’t been the best person to her. Laughed at her behind her back. Made snide comments in front of her face. He’d been an ass to her. And then she died in his pool, when everyone else was too busy trying to keep their popularity. She’d been forgotten, taken to the upside down where she would have stayed forever. She deserved more than that. And she deserves more than this. He places a single purple Hyacinth on her grave before shoving his hands in his pockets and walking away. 

He’s almost out of the graveyard when he spots something out of the corner of his eyes. The grave is fresher than the others, and its smaller, shoved right in the corner of the yard and he already knows who it belongs to before he gets there. 

‘Billy Hargrove 

Son. Brother. Friend’

Its a stark difference to Barbs, and just the sight of it makes Steve chuckle bitterly. He remembers overhearing Max telling the rest of the party during the wake that her and Susan had to persuade Neil into putting something more on that just his name. Yeah, Billy was a dick, but he deserved better. He deserved the chance at redemption. To become a better person and to prove his father and everyone else in his life wrong. He picks a few daisies from beside the grave and places them delicately on top of the stone. “See you later Hargrove.” He mumbles and he swears he can hear him laughing somewhere in the distance before he returns to his car and starts the long drive. 

“A little lost there?” Its like he’s just been woken up from a fever dream. A minute ago he was sat alone at the bar, and now there’s a woman around his age with y/h/c and bright y/e/c, staring at him like he holds all the secrets of the universe. 

“Huh?” He blinks at her, and three years ago he would have cursed himself for such a lame openly line, especially to a girl this pretty. But right now, he could be talking to Phoebe Cates herself and he wouldn’t give a damn. He just wants to be left alone to be sad and wallow in self pity about how awfull his life has turned out. 

“You looked kinda lost in your thoughts. You okay?” The girl asks, placing a delicate hand on his arm. 

“Yeah.” He shrugs her off. “Fine.” 

“You sure?” She asks and hands him a napkin, he stares at her blankly and she pushes it further towards him. “You look like you’ve been crying.” 

“Oh.” He quickly takes it from her and dabs at his eyes before scrunching it up and shoving it in his pocket. “Thanks.” He glances at her and forces a half smile before looking back at his drink. 

“I see you’re quite the talker.” You tease and sit beside him. He huffs in annoyance, but it doesn’t really seem to dampen your mood. Instead you call for the barman and ask for a drink, as well as whatever your ‘chatty’ friend wants, which after a few seconds figures is him. “So?” You ask once your drinks have been placed in front of you. “Thanks Billy.” You smile and his head rises. “Oooo, now we’re getting somewhere!” You do a little excited wiggle as you sip your drink and he looks at you bored. “Okay, so you either are a Billy.” 

“Pfft.” He scoffs and your eyebrows raise. 

“Okay. So you know a Billy.” 

“Knew.” He corrects. “I knew a Billy.” 

“Oh.” You frown and think for a few seconds. “So, were you friends and you left? Because you don’t sound like you’re from here.” 

“We weren’t friends, but yes I did leave.” 

“Where are you from? Wait!” You shush him before he even has a chance to answer, your finger is over his lips and he’s staring at you annoyed, but you don’t seem to care. “Okay, say something.” 

“I can’t.” His voice is muffled and you smile awkwardly before removing your finger, wiping it on his shirt. 

“Now say something.” 

“I’m from Hawkins, Indiana.” 

“Well, not that. But okay.” You roll your eyes. “Hey, isn’t that were all that freaky shit went down.” 

“Yep.” He grumbles and downs the rest of his first drink. 

“Cool.” You shrug. He mumbles something under his breath that you can’t quite catch but you decide to let it go. “So about this Billy guy? Friend? Lover?” Your voice gets quieter and he stares at you shocked. “Oh come on. You can tell me, this is San Francis-” 

“He’s dead.” 

“Oh.” 

“Happy now?” 

“Well, you see no. The death of people doesn’t really make me that happy. No matter if I knew them or not.” 

“Well sorry to disappoint you.” He huffs. 

“You know you can talk to me right?” 

“Why would I want to do that? You’re a complete stranger.” 

“Because sometimes talking to a stranger is the best thing. They don’t know you so they can’t judge you. All they can do is listen and sometimes give advice.” You reply and he stares at you stunned. “Plus, I have some time to kill, and I can’t imagine you have anything better to do, otherwise you wouldn’t be sat in here alone.” 

“Okay.” He nods. “I’m gonna tell you a story.” 

“Ooooo!” You grab your drink and get comfy. “What’s it about?” 

“A boy and a girl.” 

“Awwww.” 

“Not like that.” He cuts you off, effectively shutting you down. “Its kind or short, and kind of boring.” 

“Well, you’re really selling it.” You huff. “Is the ending at least good?” 

“Oh, its a whirl.” He replies and you can sense the sarcasm dripping off his statement. 

He stops for a moment to really think about what he’s going to do. He’s going to tell a complete stranger all the reasons he decided to move. He’s obviously not going to tell you everything, but still. And why was he being so mean? He’s tried for over three years to be a nice person, to get rid of the persona he carried around with him during high school, so why has it come back tonight? And why don’t you seem to care about how he’s treating you. And more importantly, who the hell are you? 

“Dude” You wave a hand in front of his face and he blinks before looking at you. “Your story?” 

“Oh, yeah. So they were just 16-ish, when I knew them. And people were so mean to both of them. The girl was bullied by assholes in school who had nothing better to do than bring people down to try and build themselves up.” 

“I hate people like that.” You spit.

“Yeah.” He nods, but refuses to make eye contact with you. “Me too.” 

“What about the boy? Who was mean to him? Was it the same people?” You ask, your eyes are wide with fear and Steve finds it quite endearing. He’s telling you about people you’ve never met before but you seem to care so much about them despite that. For all you know he could be making this shit up, but you still seem so invested. 

“No, the people, well person that was mean to him was closer to home.” 

“Who was it?” You lean towards him a little. 

“His dad.” 

“Dickhead.” 

“Yeahhh.” He agrees. 

“Well, what happened to them?” You ask. “Are they okay?” He almost doesn’t want to tell you. Or if he does, he wants to make up some bullshit about how they’re both happy, with people who love and appreciate them. Buts thats not how the world works, and maybe telling you that will be doing you a favour. You seem too happy. 

“No.” He shakes his head sadly. “They ended up not loving themselves, and now they’re gone.” 

“Gone how?” Your voice is quiet and unsure, and you’re not even sure you want to hear the answer. He looks at the sticky floor, taking a deep breath and he doesn’t even have to properly answer for you to know what he’s about to say. 

“Headstones on a lawn.” 

“Oh.” You sigh. “Did you know them well?” 

“Not as well as I should have.” There’s something else behind that statement. A huge amount of pain and grief is swirling behind his eyes, like a storm ready to destroy everything in its path. 

“What were their names?” 

“What will that do?” 

“They can’t be forgotten if people know their name. And I never forget a name...its my thing.” 

“Thats not a very good thing.” He replies and you see the hint of a smile hiding behind his frown. 

“Ouch.” You place a hand over your heart. “Whats your thing then? Wait!” You shush him again but this time he doesn’t seem to mind as much. “I bet in high school you did kegs!” You guess and he rolls his eyes. 

“Their names were Barbara Holland and Billy Hargrove.” He changes the subject and silence falls between the two of you. You vaguely recognized the names from the news. You remember your roommate saying something about knowing a girl called Heather that lived in the same town, apparently they’d been at summer camp once. They used to talk sometimes but after a while she stopped receiving letters. 

“Well, at least someone else knows about them. And I’m bound to tell someone about them. Like I said, I’m good with names...not so much keeping secrets so if you’ve met aliens or the bogeyman, don’t tell me.” You say, trying to lighten the mood and it seems to work a little. He chuckles softly and thats good enough for you, for now. “Anyway, that can’t be the end of the story.” 

“Why not?” He questions. 

“Because it was sad.” 

“What’s that got to do with anything?” 

“All stories end happily. If not, it just means you’re not at the end yet.” 

“Sure.” He raises and eyebrow. “But, if you must know, no, I’m not at the end. But believe me, this doesn’t end happily for anyone.” 

“Well then its not over yet.” You say quickly making him roll his eyes before taking a swig of his drink. 

“Back at home I know a boy and a boy.” 

“Riiiight.” You wiggle your eyebrows and he smiles softly. He thinks Robin would like you, you’re sweet and accepting and everything he wishes he could have been back home. 

“They were best friends with each other. Still are actually, despite some difficulties. But I always thought that at least one of them wanted more. They loved each other but never knew it.” He lowers his voice, the two of you are leaning into each other, your forehead’s practically touching. “I think they were always afraid of what people would say. Or even what the other would say. And now one of them has moved to a different state.”  

Your frown deepens as you stare at the floor, your feet swinging against the stool as you play with your hands. 

”That sucks.” 

“I told you it wasn’t happy.” 

“Well, then you’re not at the end of your story. And they’re not at the end of theirs. Love always catches up with you eventually. Thats just the way of the universe.” 

“Sure it is.” He scoffs. 

“Come on. I want a sequel!” Your drum your fingers against the bar while he stares at you. “Billy! Another round please.” 

“You haven’t even finished that one.” Steve replies and you quirk your eyebrows, a smirk appearing on your face before you stare right at him and down the rest of your drink. 

“Happy now?” 

“Well, you see no not really, because I’m not carrying you home.” 

“You’d be so lucky.” You tease and he giggles a little. “Come on.” You poke his arm. 

“Fine.” He throws his hands up. “The sequel. This one is about me and my friend.” 

“Ooo, yay! I want to know more about you mystery boy.” The nickname causes Steve’s cheeks to heat up and he’s kind of glad Robin isn’t here to tease him. “Now, is this friend a girl?” You rest your chin in your hand and he sighs dramatically, already knowing where you’re going with this. 

“Yes. But not like that.” Now he’s the one shushing you making you stare at him surprised. “I’m not her type.” 

“Okay.” You hold your hands up in defeat and he lower his finger, letting it drop to the bar. 

“Both our parents were evil.” 

“How?” You ask.

“My dad says I’m his biggest disappointment and my mom looks straight through me.” 

“I’m sorry.” You place a hand on his arm but this time he doesn’t shrug it off, he lets you keep it there for a few seconds. 

“Its fine. They’re both kind of right.” 

“I’m sure thats not true.” You start to disagree but he talks over you instead. 

“And my friends parents don’t agree with her lifestyle if you know what I mean?” 

“Yeahh. I get that.” You nod, and now its his turn to try and decipher your look. He also prays he hasn’t attracted another lesbian, as much as he loves and supports Robin, he doesn’t need another factor to add into the thought that maybe he isn’t destined to be loved. “I play for both teams if you want to know.” You whisper and he nods. 

“Cool. Whats that like?” 

“Not any different to ‘normal’.” You reply and he chuckles. “So you and you’re friend? Quick question, is she cute?” 

“Yes, she’s cute. And for a time I may have liked her.” 

“Ha!” You snort loudly and a bright blush creeps up your neck. 

“Do you want to know the rest of my story?” 

“Yes.” You stifle your laughter. “Please, go on.” 

“So, both of our parents were mean, so we made a bet. And if we worked and saved we cold run away to somewhere like here and we’d have a better life.” 

“And?” You smile brightly at him. 

“And?” 

“Did that happen? Are you meeting her here?” You look around the dark bar. 

“No.” He shakes his head. “I left early and she’s still there.” 

“Oh.” You sigh. “I’m sorry. Is she going to be coming here soon though?” 

“I don’t know.” He shakes his head. “Her parents are putting a lot of pressure on her to be everything but herself and sometimes I think she’s just going to give in. She’s been through so much and she’s so stubborn, but when I call her, she seems so broken and part of me thinks its because I left her alone.” 

“No.” You grab his hand. “Its not your fault. Listen, I don’t know her, and I don’t really know you but she’s going to be okay. She’s going to come to San Francisco...meet a cute girl.” You whisper the last bit and he smiles softly. “And you’re going to have a better life.” 

“And how do you know that?” 

“Because, like I said. You’re story isn’t over yet. Its just beginning. Kind of like a movie, and eventually everyone gets their happy end. Everyone does.” 

“Again, how do you know that?” 

“I don’t, not really. But if you don’t have hope then what’s the point. Just you wait and see.” 

“You’re idea of the world and my idea of the world are very different from each other.” He sighs. “Its not funny or pretty or sweet. Its full of assholes and monsters and shitty things.” 

“Maybe.” You nod. “But I like to see the good in the world. You just have to see the good...” 

“Steve.” 

“And we finally have a name!” You cheer. “Keep looking for the good Steve. You’ll find it eventually.” 

I think I’ve already found a bit. 

“This isn’t the end of your story. For all you know it could be the beginning. Now, what time is it?” 

“11:55?” He replies and relief washes over him. He’s made it through and nothing bad has happened. Not to him at least. And when he gets home he’s going to call the party, and Robin and maybe even his parents to see if they’re okay. But right now you’re talking to him and he has to tune back into the real world. “What?” 

“Do you want a sparkler?” You repeat your previous question just as Billy hands you some change. He blinks at you and your roll your eyes playfully before saying bye and then dragging him out of the dingy bar and into the bright street. 

Its empty, everyone is either with friends or family, in back gardens or at events. It seems everyone in the entire world has someone to celebrate with, everyone except him, and then he remembers. He’s not alone. Because you’re looking at him, a soft smile on your lips as you hand him a sparkler. 

“I do this every year.” You explain and light the end of his before doing the same to your own. “I write something that has pissed me off in the past year, and then when it disappears, its like I’ve let it go. Metaphorically of course. Its kind of like a second go at New Years, because lets face it, nobody is keeping their resolutions.” 

“Has that ever worked.” 

“No completely. But there’s always time...like I said, it’s not the end of the story yet.”

And while he stares at you writing whatever in the air, with a bright smile on your face, for the first time in a long time there’s a spark of hope. 

He thinks there could actually be a day when he enjoys July 4th again.

[senorarelojes]

Fic: Happiest Girl (Part 3)

Alan makes a bet that Dave would not be able to pass off as a woman in ladies’ clothing. Dave decides to prove him wrong.

Pairing: Dave/Alan  Rating: Who am I kidding? Probably will end up Explicit Notes: Many thanks for @pinksyndication and @what-could-have-been for their awesome ideas! First part is here. Second part is here.

They were now in the thick of the West German leg of their tour, which was always the longest. Dave was pleased to arrive in Hamburg; he’d always loved the hedonistic seediness of the city and its dark underbelly which it never bothered to hide. It felt like a sister city to New York, in that sense. 

Alan hadn’t brought up the bet again over the last three days since they’d shaken hands on it, but then again it’d been a nonstop whirlwind of back-to-back gigs, press interviews and travel. They were finally going to get a bit of a breather in Hamburg and West Berlin, which was fine by Dave. Alan looked tired too, even a little distracted, which was very unusual for him. Even Martin’s poofy hair looked like it was starting to wilt. They could all do with a break.

So when Alan rang Dave’s hotel room and asked him to come over on their very first day off in Hamburg, Dave imagined that it was Alan merely wanting to get lunch together or maybe talk about hitting some of the clubs on the Reeperbahn that night. Instead he was surprised to find Alan laying out dresses on his bed, methodically arranging them according to colour and length. “Which one d’you like?” Alan asked him, gesturing towards the dresses.

Dave goggled at him. “We’re doing the bet thing tonight?” 

Alan looked at him like he had grown three heads. “Yeah, course we are.”

“But why?”

Alan started counting off on his fingers. “Firstly, it’s our day off. Secondly, I don’t want to keep lugging these dresses all over Europe. So the faster we get rid of them, the better. And thirdly, we’re in Hamburg, mate. I can’t think of a better place that’s more, uh, accepting of blokes in dresses. In case, y’know, we get caught.”

Dave didn’t miss the use of ‘we’ in that sentence, which was actually a little heartwarming. It reminded Dave that he wasn’t alone in this, that Alan wasn’t going to let him get punched by some homophobic bastard who found out he wasn’t a woman. “Alright, okay,” Dave conceded with a sigh, going over to look at the dresses. 

They picked over the selections together as though they were discussing which samples they’d wanted to program into the Emulator. Dave was actually privately impressed with Alan’s tastes; it seemed that Alan was aware Dave preferred fitting clothes, and had chosen accordingly. Dave found his gaze continually drawn to a cute little black number that looked like it would be skimpy but comfortable. Alan must have noticed, because he was smiling as he nodded towards it. “Like that one, do you?”

Dave shrugged, wondering if it was normal for him to feel this eager about the proceedings. “It’s not bad.”

Something in Alan’s smile sharpened. “Go try it on, then.”

Dave gawked at him. “Wh- here? Right now?”

Alan looked confused. “Yeah, of course. We need to see if it works first.”

Muttering under his breath, Dave pulled off his t-shirt and unzipped his denim cut-offs, kicking them off so that he was only standing there in his boxers. He was figuring out how to slip the dress on when Alan looked over at him and chuckled. “You’re not going to wear those under that pretty dress tonight, are you?” he asked, pointing at Dave’s plaid boxers.

Dave looked down at them. “Why? What’s wrong with them?”

Alan’s face was riddled with doubt. “Hard to explain, really. It just-- it’ll look a bit weird, right?”

“To who?” Dave said incredulously. “I don’t know about you mate, but I’m not planning on letting anyone peek under my dress while I’m in this get-up.”

A shadow of something quickly passed over Alan’s face, but it was gone before Dave could fully process it. “Maybe briefs would be a better fit,” Alan said tentatively.

“Yeah, maybe,” Dave said. “I’m not wearing knickers though, so don’t bloody ask.”

That shadow was briefly back again. “Just wear the dress, will you?” Alan’s tone was one of fond exasperation, so Dave threw his t-shirt at Alan’s head with a laugh and proceeded to figure his way into the dress.

It was made out of a smooth and stretchy fabric that felt cool on Dave’s skin, and he liked the long sleeves that lent the dress an air of respectability and classiness, especially given that the hem stopped halfway down Dave’s thighs. He stared at himself in the hotel mirror, a little shocked at how nicely the dress outlined the planes of his body. The long sleeves helped to soften the hard curves of his shoulders, and the clingy fabric brought out the narrowness of his waist. Unfortunately, it also meant the bunchy material of his boxers was visible through the fabric. Bloody Alan had been right.

Alan walked over to look over his shoulder. “Looks pretty good. The boxers--”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” an irritated Dave waved him away. “I’ll wear briefs later.”

“Don’t forget your legs.” Alan actually squatted down to run a hand up and down Dave’s hairy shins. “Have a go at them with the razor, that should sort them out.”

“Fuck.” Now Dave was beginning to finally feel a little out of his depth. Had he really bitten off more than he could chew?

It must have shown on his face, for Alan was taking pity on him. “Just come by my room later before we head out,” he offered as he stood up. “It’s easier if someone helps.”

Dave was rather curious why Alan was being so helpful if he truly wanted Dave to fail. Alan could be surprisingly competitive, despite his easygoing manner and generally chill attitude. Maybe Alan wanted to see Dave make a fool of himself in public. But then again, it didn’t explain why he’d spent so much on the dresses. There was something else afoot here, and Dave was determined to get to the bottom of the matter.

Which meant, unfortunately, that he had to play along.

(Just a note: I wanted to use the word ‘transphobic’ instead of ‘homophobic’, but I did some Googling and the word didn’t really take off till after the 90s so I figured ‘homophobic’ was a word more likely used in the 80s.)

[theonewiththefanfics]

Hawkins’ Charm (Part 5/?)

Synopsys: They had gotten out of Hawkins. After all the shit that had happened, all the heartache and pain, Billy and the Reader had gotten away from that hellhole, building their life in California as he had dreamed. But when Max’s graduation rolls around and they go to celebrate, it’s as if the Upside Down was just waiting for all of them to return. And it has a bone to pick.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x f!Reader; platonic!Steve Harrington x f!Reader

Genre: angst

Warnings: blood, mentions of injuries and death, fighting, swearing

Word count: 4262

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CONDONE BILLY’S ACTIONS AND THE THINGS HE’S DONE! THIS IS BASICALLY AN AU, WHEN REALLY LOOKING AT IT! SPOILERS FOR S3! READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION!

When they arrived at the old Byers’ house, the sun was already over the horizon painting the sky and their surroundings with deep golden hues, pastel pinks and even some light greens. If the situation wasn't the way it was, he'd think it might even be the prettiest sight ever. Nothing would compare to the sunrises in San Diego with Y/N by his side, but there was something eerily beautiful in the view.        “They’re all most definitely asleep,” Johnathan warned placing the key in the lock and twisting it.        Billy was barely listening to what he was saying, how maybe they should talk to Joyce first, and then wake the kids up, but the second his eyes befell on Alex, he wanted to disappear.        He looked so much like Y/N; the same hair, the same eyes, just his mouth and nose were their late father’s. If there wasn’t the age difference between them, they could pass as twins. With how much taller Alex had grown, most definitely.        They were all in the living room, Mike and Lucas splayed on the couch while the rest were in sleeping bags littered around the floor. Soft snores filled the air, and Billy’s gaze befell on Max. His little sister that he used to genuinely hate, then managed to somehow tolerate and now called her family without hesitation.        Her ginger locks was a mess and even that was an understatement, nose hidden in the pillow underneath her head. A soft smile pulled up at his lips before it dropped. He’d have to involve all of them in this mess. Again.     It was his fault, and now he’d be the reason the week they were supposed to be having fun before the panic of moving to universities and colleges would start, would be replaced by fear and genuine terror.        A groggy Joyce stepped in the living room, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand to get rid of sleep.        “What’s going on?” her raspy voice was quiet as to not wake the kids. They were practically adults, but for them, they’d always be kids.        “Y/N’s missing,” Steve whispered. “And the Demogorgon is back.”

       “What? But… that’s impossible.” Joyce shook her head. “I closed the Gate. Hop…” she struggled to get the word out and had to look to the ground. “Hopper gave his life so I could do it. I saw them pour cement down every single crack of every single door. And the one at the lab has been closed as well. We checked. Four. Years. Ago.”        Joyce looked at Will as he slowly stirred, sighed and then turned to the other side going back to sleep.       “Are you sure, the Gate’s open again?” she whispered.        Everyone simultaneously nodded.        “There’s no other explanation as to how a Demogorgon and a bunch of Demodogs could be in Hawkins again.”        “Demodogs?” it was Dustin who butted it lifting his head from the ground, a trail of drool down his cheek. “What’s going on?”        Hearing the chatter, the rest of the Party slowly woke up, small grunts escaping most of their mouths ‘cause they’d only slept for a few hours, spending most of the time watching movies and playing one last game of Dungeons & Dragons.        “El, we need your help,” Nancy was the one who spoke up and watched as the girl’s eyebrows furrowed mind still ruled by sleep.        “Why?” she yawned and stretched her neck.        “Y/N… she’s missing.”        Alex’s head whipped to the side to look at the young woman. “What do you mean by she’s missing?”        “Alex…” Joyce stepped forward ready to be a buffer between the two people, but the younger one shook his head and stood up.        “No,” he pointed at his brother-in-law, “answer me – what do you mean by Y/N’s missing?”        Billy couldn’t lift his gaze to meet Alex’s.        “Don’t make me ask again.”        Robin sighed and went to place a hand on his shoulder. “Now’s not the time.”        “Where’s my sister?!” he roared and finally got his answer, though it was one that chilled him to the core.        “I don’t know!” Billy yelled. “That fucking thing took her!”        Alex felt like he might vomit, much like Billy did. “What thing?” he got out through clenched teeth.        Billy couldn’t respond, he didn’t want to. It would mean confirming everything that had transpired since Tina’s just a couple of hours ago was real, and he didn’t want it to be.     Steve broke his silence.        “The Demogorgon.”        “That can’t be right,” Mike shook his head. “I thought it was all over when we fought that thing at the mall.”        “It’s true,” Will said and had to swallow a lump that had grown in his throat. “I – I didn’t want to believe it when I first felt it. I just thought it was the nerves cause graduation is in two days… but… I think I knew it all along, just didn’t want to admit it.”        Will’s words were what sealed it as the truth. Even though they wanted to question it more, even though they wanted to dismiss it and go back to sleep, write it off as a horrible nightmare, the fact that Steve, Billy, Robin, Nancy and Johnathan all sported cuts and bruises and looked like they were about to collapse was proof enough.        “Please,” Billy begged through tears dropping down on his knees before El, “please I need you to find her.”        She didn’t say yes, or no or anything, just that she’d need something of Y/N’s.        “Like what?”        “Anything I can use to connect to her.”        He had nothing on himself that was a piece of Y/N except… his hands trembled as fingers wrapped around his wedding band and slowly took it off. The skin was so much lighter where it had snugly sat for years, and Billy didn’t feel right without it on.        “Will this do?” he choked out looking at the golden circle. Not once in his life had it been taken off. The day Y/N had slid it along his skin and helped it rest against the base of his finger was the day he had vowed to keep her safe. Seemed fitting that Billy parted with it when he’d broken the promise.        El just nodded, not wanting to say anything that could cause more pain. She sat down on the floor crisscross, Mike turning the TV on static with the old radio as well, helping her slip a black blindfold across her eyes.        Billy knew it could take a while, but every second that El just sat there, blood trickling down her nose and towards her lip was a second of agony.        “She’s,” she finally spoke up after about five minutes, her eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. “She’s laying on the floor on her side. There’s blood on her shirt… a lot of it…”       “Is she breathing?” it was Steve who asked the question, but Billy was not about to yell at him, it was the same thing he needed to know. Had to know to figure out if he himself should keep breathing.        “I – I think so,” El nodded, wiping away a little trickle of blood from her nose. “I think she’s cold. She’s shivering. I can see her breath in the air.”        “Where is she?” Nancy tried to steer her in the right direction. It was good news to hear Y/N was fighting, but if they didn’t get to her in time, that might just be it.        El shook her head. “I don’t know. It’s a dark room… it looks like a big fridge…”        Cautiously she stepped towards where Y/N laid, and that’s when she noticed that all the shivering was not just that, but it was the woman crying her shaky breaths making her whole-body rattle.        She stepped around to look at her face, to see if she was hurt more than the slashes littering her back.    Y/N’s eyes were wide open, jaw clenched in either pain or in an attempt to stay composed. El watched as her Y/E/C orbs moved along the far end of the unmarked room as if tracking something.        “It’s the Demogorgon,” El breathed out watching the creature as well. Y/N didn’t move a muscle, as it slinked around the wall.        “What’s it doing?” Mike pressed on.        “Is it hurting her?” Alex’s voice broke in the middle of the question. She might be his older annoying ass sister, but she was his sister.        “No,” El shook her head. “He’s… pacing…? It’s like he’s guarding her. Waiting for something…”        “Guarding her?” Robin looked to Nancy and Johnathan. “I don’t remember you two mentioning it did that.”        Johnathan replied just as confused. “That’s ‘cause it didn’t.”        “Is there anything else there? Can you see anything through the door?” Mike tried to lead her in the right direction and not get distracted.        ‘No’ she motioned with her head but tilted it to the side and everyone could just imagine her squinting her eyes as if she was trying to see better. “But there’s something on wall… it’s like a vent…?”        She suddenly flinched and was bombarded with questions, but she just brushed all of them off by saying ‘something’s coming’.        Rhythmic thuds echoed through the small room, and El heard Y/N’s breathing pick up. From the corner of her eye, she saw the woman’s grip tighten around something.        “She’s holding something… Y/N… it’s a piece of a pipe…”        That’s when El sprung away, even though nothing could hurt her in the weird space in between, but it was still startling, when Y/N charged at the Demogorgon, jamming the jagged piece of metal through one of the open lapels of its mouth and running towards the vertical little window.        “Help!” Y/N screamed, trying to slam against the wall (door?), but it was just too sturdy. “In here!”        The glass shattered, and Y/N yelped shielding herself from the shards, making both of the girls spring back. As quickly as she could, El rushed to see what was on the other side but was greeted by a screeching swirling black mass. A moving red light shone through and what looked like a cash machine at the back of a diner counter sat still.        Screaming El ripped the blindfold off and fell back into Mike’s embrace.        “What happened? Is Y/N alright?”        “I don’t know,” she cried out. “The Mind Flayer attacked.”        Suddenly Billy was very light-headed to the point Max had to hold his back, to not let him fully collapse. “Her?”        El shook her head looking at Billy. “Me. It’s very angry. But it didn’t want to hurt her… it wanted to hurt you… it wants to punish you…”        A chill as sharp as an icicle went down his spine, and everyone’s gaze turned to look at him. It made sense, in a way, he just didn’t want to believe that the Mind Flayer had enough of a brain to hold a grudge, but of course, it would. And what was a better way to hurt him than hurt the one person he loved most?        “Billy, Billy look at me,” Joyce’s voice was calm and soothing, just like her palms on his cheeks. She reminded him so much of his own mother, that he couldn’t help the additional tears that feel. “We’ll find her okay? Y/N’s gonna be alright.”       He nodded not having the strength to do anything else. And that’s when he broke. Billy’s body shook with sobs as Joyce allowed him to use her shoulder to cry on, his hands grasping at her nightshirt as if he was a kid and had just woken up from a nightmare.       Fuck, how he wanted all of this to be just a nightmare. To wake up in San Diego, with early morning light filtering through their pearly curtains. With Y/N soundly sleeping next to him as he kissed her on the cheek and rushed outside for a quick swim. To come back home and have his two girls on the couch, eating breakfast with Tom & Jerry playing on the TV.        “It’s my fault,” he cried holding onto Joyce tighter. What he didn’t see was how Max had to turn away and grab Lucas’ hand. She had never seen her brother so utterly broken, it was breaking her as well.        “Because of me she went to the woods, because of me she went to the junkyard, because of me she got attacked and now, possibly will be killed. It’s all my fault.”        “Billy, don’t say that,” Max croaked. “You know Y/N loves you, she’d never blame you.”        “But it’s true,” he laughed running a hand through his hair. “It’s because of me all this bullshit’s happened.”        “You don’t know that,” Alex spoke up. He’d calmed down enough to know it was something out of Billy’s control. “She was coming to my graduation anyway. It could've happened then...”        “Yeah, but it was me who wanted to go to Tina’s fucking party, not her. And you heard El! She said the Mind Flayer was mad at me, it’s angry at me!”        No one had a response to that because, in a way, it was true. Yet had Billy not stood up against the one who’d enslaved his mind, everyone was pretty sure - all of them would’ve been dead. Yeah, Joyce and Hopper had managed to close the Gate, but the moments Billy had fended off the Mind Flayer’s monster from attacking Eleven had saved her life and in turn the lives of everyone else.        “Fine,” Billy sighed, and Joyce gave him a tight-lipped smile. “I need to uh I need to see her mom…What do I say to her mom?” There was no way he’d possibly even utter the words – hey, so the reason your daughter used to wake up in the middle of the night screaming and hyperventilating was because her best friend was killed by an interdimensional monster. And oh, yeah, she kinda fought one as well a few years back, and now she’s been kidnapped by one. And it has a personal agenda against me. So, no biggie.        “Tell her she’s staying with me,” Nancy said chewing on her nail. “Tell her we’re having a little get together until the nerds’ graduation; a girl’s night and you guys are having the same. It’s not that far off from what we used to do.”    Alex nodded. “I’ll cover for you if needed. Besides, she already knows I’m hanging ‘round Byers’ until Friday.”    There were a few places they had decided Y/N could be kept at by the description of a large fridge and a cash machine, so they had split up in little groups. Joyce, Will and Dustin would go to Benny’s, the rest would investigate the mall and visit every eating joint they could, to see if it matched what El had seen.        Billy would’ve never agreed to stay out of the search, but, in the end, had relented, when Joyce told him someone had to stay at the house.        “She might show up somewhere, and someone needs to be by the phone.”        “No, what I need to do is find my wife.”        Joyce sighed and placed a gentle hand on his chest. “Billy when was the last time you slept?”        “I don’t know, does it really matter?”        “You’re not in the right state of mind, sweetheart…”        He knew he wasn’t. At the thought of seeing the Demogorgon or any of those creatures, the only thing he saw read and knew - he wouldn’t stop to even think when presented with the chance to kill them, no matter if, in turn, his life would be in danger.        “Then what am I supposed to do? I’ll go nuts just sitting here.”        “The Mind Flayer doesn’t like you,” Max spoke up. “It wants to hurt you, punish you for what you did, for saving El and everyone else. I kinda think it knows that by hurting Y/N it hurts you. Imagine if you just so happened to walk into its trap, which it clearly is.”        Max had a point, and he hated it. There was nothing left to do but watch as everyone else piled into the respective cars, his own Camaro the only one left behind. Billy would never forgive himself if there was even one more scratch on Y/N's body. He was already the reason she was in that position.    He huffed and plopped down onto the couch. It wasn’t long before his eyes slipped closed.

***

       “Billy?” it was Y/N’s voice that made him shoot up from the couch, eyes wide in disbelief at the sight of her. He looked around and noted that he was still in the Byers’ home, but the door was unmistakably open, sunlight streaming inside. It looked like it was already dipping down, indicating he’d slept through most of the day.        He couldn’t believe the sight in front of his eyes, but Y/N was right there. Battered, bruised and covered in blood, but alive and real. And there.        “Baby? Oh my god,” his arms were instantly around her body, pulling her as close to him as possible. Desperate lips found hers in a second, and when she responded to the kiss, it was like all the worries melted away into nothing.        “Where were you? How did you get away?” his palms cupped her face, looking over every feature, trying to ingrain them in his mind. Billy didn’t think it would be possible, seeing as he already knew where each scar and birthmark was, but there was no harm in doing it again.        “I didn’t,” she shook her head taking a step back. “It let me go.”        Billy’s eyebrows furrowed. “What?”        “It just…” Y/N shrugged, “let me go.”        And that’s when he remembered, that there was no way she would be so nonchalant about everything. By what El had said, he knew Y/N’s back had to be slashed open, and she’d be in severe pain. He looked at his hands and saw black blood covering them. But he noticed it too late.        The pipe hit against the side of his head and everything went black.

***        His whole body was throbbing in pain, but most of all his head; it felt like it was on the verge of splitting open.        Billy groaned and winced, trying to lift his hand to press against his temple, but found himself unable.        “You made him mad, Billy,” Y/N tusked as if he was a toddler. “Very, very mad when you disobeyed the orders. Now, he wants to repay you the same way.”       His hands were bound behind the chair he’d been propped on. Even through his blurry vision, he could distinguish he was still at Byers’, the picture of Joyce, Will and Johnathan all smiling being the dead giveaway, and that scared him the most. It meant Y/N or rather the Mind Flayer didn’t care about being found. There wouldn’t be anything left to find once she’d done whatever the hell she wanted to.        Looking to the side, he saw a pair of tubes that he couldn’t really distinguish, but the sight of them made his stomach turn.        “It’ll look like an accident, don't worry. He wanted to make them pay as well, but it would’ve taken too much time. And we have so much to do…”       She was walking around the room, like it was nothing, like the rips across her back didn’t cause her any kind of pain. Billy was pretty sure, right now it didn’t, so he was somewhat thankful for that.    “What will look like an accident?” he prodded, trying to figure out the Mind Flayer’s game plan and buy himself some time.        Y/N shrugged. “Joyce…Nancy… Johnathan… the little buggers with them.”        It was like he was dunked in an ice-cold bath head first.        “The brakes just wouldn’t stop, and there’s that tight corner not far from here. I’m sure they’ve figured everything out by now and are on their way here but… panic makes people reckless.”        The wires… they were brake cables.        “Think about Clara,” he pleaded and had to push down the bile rising in his throat. “Think about our daughter! Y/N fight this, fight it for her! You love her! This is not you doing it, it's that fucking thing! Alex is in one of those cars!”        “You were supposed to help us stay,” she purred not listening to a single word he was saying. Billy could see how the red little veins in her eyes had turned back, her pupils dilated to an unnatural size. “You were supposed to make sure she died. Now… you’ll have to see what happens to the ones who don’t do as they’re told.”        With terror coursing through his veins he understood what she meant, or the thing possessing her meant. Billy had disobeyed, so now he would be punished. But when he thought the monster would rip him apart piece by piece, with slowly settling realization he realised that was not his punishment.        Like a mindless zombie, Y/N stood before the moving wall. A lamb ready for slaughter. And only one creature made entrances like that.        Billy struggled against the ropes, the material cutting into his skin, no doubt leaving bleeding red marks on his flesh, but that was nothing to the all-consuming fear of seeing the Demogorgon tear apart the apartment’s wall and drop into the living room.        The TV was going haywire, and he thought he could hear his own car wailing even through the ringing in his ears. A sharp pain went through his knee, and he heard something crash to the floor but didn't care about what it was.        “Y/N, please don’t! I know you’re in there.”        Her eyes were soulless as she looked at him. “This was your fault, Billy.”        But she didn’t even get to make a move towards the monster, as the door slammed open to the house. It was a split second of a distraction, but it was enough for an invisible force to fling the Demogorgon against the wall, and enough time for the other assailant to wrap his hands around Y/N's throat and lift her above the ground.        Her hands gripped around the palms squeezing her neck. They were strong, and with every passing moment she was losing consciousness more and more, but right before succumbing to the darkness that promised nothing but sleep, her Y/E/C eyes looked up to glance into Jim Hopper’s blue gaze.        “Hop?” she choked out.        “Sorry kiddo,” and he squeezed a bit more until her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and her body went limp in his grasp.        Gently, like Y/N was made of glass, Hopper laid her out on the floor, careful not to put her in the shards of the broken coffee table that Billy's leg had kicked against and destroyed it while trying to get out from his restraints.        A beat passed, everyone in a complete state of shock, not only by his sudden appearance but by his resurrection, heroic act and subsequently the aftermath.        “You fucking killed her!” Alex yelled, rushing past the ex-Chief to his sister’s side and knelt down much like Billy was already pushing strands of Y/H/C hair out of Y/N's face, two fingers desperately checking for a pulse while the other boy held a piece of glass against her nose to see if she was breathing        Hopper slumped against the wall. “I didn’t kill her, I made her pass out!”        “Yeah, by choking her to death!” Mike screamed back, even though he was ecstatic to see Hopper again.        His body was thinner, but not in a sense of ‘I’ve been working out’, but ‘my meals consisted of a piece of bread and a glass of water. Sometimes the bread was so uneatable, I could carve paintings on the wall’.        “Do I need to remind you she tried to kill you first?”        “It wasn’t her it was the Mind Flayer!” Mike said.        “Yeah, in her body!” Hopper replied again, not even thinking about apologizing. “I just saved your lives you ungrateful little shi-“        “Hop…” Joyce’s palm cupped his cheek, and he leaned into the soft touch the anger melting away in a second. He hadn’t felt something so sweet in four years, going on five. She had walked into the house right when he’d lowered Y/N to the ground, not believing at all what she was seeing. “How are you alive?”        “Russians,” was the one word he said. It kinda didn’t need elaboration.        El had been stuck to his side, the second she was done keeping the Demogorgon away, arms wrapped around his middle, the. It had slinked back into the carved-up wall and disappeared with one last screech. But she was one hundred per cent sure it’d rear its ugly head again.        By that point, everyone had gathered back inside the Byers’ place. Nancy had converged with Joyce when they were on their way back and noticed something was leaking from her car. They’d been lucky that the speed they’d been driving in was slow, given how both vehicles were missing their brake cables.       “What do we do?” Steve asked the trusty bat with nails he’d been holding now lowered to the floor. “We can’t just leave her like this with that… thing inside of her.”        “He likes it cold,” Billy sneered as he leaned down and lifted Y/N, pressing her body tighter to his hoping that his warmth made the demon inside of his wife squirm in discomfort. “He put her in a fucking freezer… So, let’s put him in a sauna.”

Tags (crossed out wouldn't take):

Forever tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @sweet-ladyy @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @teenwolflover28

Hawkins’ Charm tag list: @genius2050 @aiifandomsunite @ashleymarieriffle @littlefool-smalljester @infinitelycharmed23 @llcalumllhoodll @benevolentgemini @rxmanovbby @euphoniumpets @krazykatykat456 @believerofall @cracked-sidewalk98 @ccidk @babechief @meganmj @blackhood5sos @fml9603 @noodlenerd101 @universefinds @kuroidesuchloe @im-a-stranger-thing @grxxn-gardxns @springholland @beforethebraces @robinisourlesbianmom @queeneliza108 @neenaw-neenaw @lexisntthatweird @choicesismylife @mckenzie2020 @kcd15 @snuggleducky @reckless-sofia @didyouseetheflair @silver-winter-wolf @jay-ta-blog @hopeless-lovex0 @anyasthoughts @robinismyqueen @yeah-butyourenot-dacremontgomery @mcrganstarks @psychoticobsession @cutehipstergirl25 @sbfandom @mickmoon @jackyfrost01 @txhmine @dark-princess99 @morgangrice18 @changingmylifestyle367 @graveyard—baby—666 @sweetdayme4427 @alowexpectation @sexyvixen7 @golddvstwoman @evelynfreakinaddams @sunfucked @sataninsatin @queenbbarnes

A/N: I’m thinking just like the show has 8 episodes each season, there might be eight parts, but we’ll see :)))

P.S. my tags are always open, just drop a message ;)

[cfwinnies]

greetings, loved ones. i’m hannah, and i’m bringing you my girl winnie AKA emotionally damaged. there’s info under the cut but basically i love plotting so like this or hmu if you wanna plot! tw death

* ･ﾟ ❆ { cis female . she & her } wait ! is that KRISTINE FROSETH we see clocking in at SANTA’S WORKSHOP ? oh no , its just GUINEVERE ‘WINNIE’ FLYNN !   ! the seasonal employee is twenty - two years old and clearly isn't new to christmas in the big apple life . if you can’t find them looking the other way when kids stand on the ski ball ramp than it’s a sure bet they’re relaxing in cozy 305 . the song they listen to on their way home from their shift is lost boy by ruth b . makes sense , seeing as they totally embody SPIKED HOT CHOCOLATE WITH EXTRA WHIPPED CREAM, SLEEPING ON THE ROOF TO GET A RARE GLIMPSE AT THE STARS, A MISCHIEVOUS GRIN AS A SNOWBALL IS PATTED FIRMLY INTO PLACE . 

HISTORY.

born guinevere amelia flynn (an almost impossibly pretentious name which she can never stop judging her parents for), winnie grew up with great parents, roger and lucy, who loved art and expression  and reading (ie why she is name guinevere). they moved around a lot because her father lectured at different colleges and her mom was a painter who was always searching out her muse. for a few years, they even lived out of a winnebago and traveled all over the country. it was a weird life, but a good one. unfortunately, roger passed away when she still a kid. it was unexpected and it threw her mom off the rails- lucy had always been very eccentric and roger’s influence had kind of been the thing that tempered her before. without him, she started really giving in to the worst parts of herself. she drank too much, stopped paying bills, even went off on impromptu artistic trips without thinking about how it would affect winnie. 

for the next few years, winnie basically raised herself (and often, her mother). it wasn’t until lucy met adam that she turned things around- almost overnight. suddenly, the cross-faded artist that winnie had grown used to was replaced by a perfect PTA-mom-slash-marketing-coordinator. within a year of meeting, they were married and looking to have a kid of their own. the problem was that this perfect new family didn’t seem to have room for winnie, the walking reminder of all of the things that lucy had moved past. they didn’t mistreat her, they didn’t hate her, they just didn’t seem to care about her at all. or if they did, they just didn’t act like it. there were few kind words, few hugs, no more attention than they absolutely had to give her. winnie mostly grew up alone. lacking a social life or a solid home life, she ended up falling in love with music. she was entranced with the way that musicians could take all of these feelings that she couldn’t even put names to and project them out into the world in a way that connects with other people. it was an almost shocking level of emotional honesty that she herself couldn’t imagine.

the second that she was old enough, winnie moved out to the first place that she could think of to start over- new york city. it was a lucky break when she met amelio- the girl had almost no money and only a single suitcase to her name. with his help, she settled down into cozy corner and immediately set to creating for herself a new and better identity than the sone that she had left behind. she pushed herself to try new things, make new friends, leave behind her past and make the most of every day.  for the first time, winnie considers herself happy with her situation. she works at santa’s workshop, an arcade/toy store which is pretty much a perfect fit for her.

PERSONALITY.

winnie hides her insecurities behind layers of defenses. she never wants to be seen as weak, so she just won’t let people see her at all if that’s what it takes. she only truly opens up on rare occasions and to people that she cares deeply about.

even then, she'll usually try to brush off her admissions with humor or distract the person. or she'll try to push away from them completely before they can leave her.

PHILOPHOBE. she’s seen what love can do to people through her mother and she doesn’t ever want something like that to happen to her. but she also like... falls in love with every stranger that smiles at her on the subway. the duality of man.

the kind of person who always knows exactly what’s happening and where. if there’s a concert, she probably already had tickets. if there's a party going on, you can usually find her at the beer pong table. or doing body shots. depends on the vibe that night.

she’s one of those people who goes out of their way to know and befriend everybody- at least on a surface level. there are very few people that she doesn’t get along with 

always wants to be around other people

she fills her life and the lives of the people that she cares about with constant adventures- maybe because she hates staying stagnant.  like if she were to stay in one place for too long, her hurt might finally catch up with her and people would realize that there wasn’t actually anything special about her. 

she's feisty and vivid and somebody that will never allow a situation to be dull

she would go to hell and back for the people that she cares about without any expectation of reciprocity

she isn’t above laughing at herself because she doesn’t feel the need to take herself very seriously.

huge flirt  !  unapologetically so tbh

a firm believer in platonic hand holding and cheek kissing

even though she doesn’t know how to express it, she cares very deeply about people and does want to make them happy? she's the type of person that will see a girl crying in the bathroom and make a lifelong friend out of her

she’s got a lot of love in her heart, you know???? but like, in a super chill, detached way....  nothing to see here, move along

she has a pretty solid little library going in her room left to her by her dad. it’s pretty much the only thing she would have taken from her old life

i’ve got a list of wanted connections for her here but i’m also always down to brainstorm  !!  be sure to like this or message me if you want to plot